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4 C 4 V-
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WITHYFORD
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HOUNDS AND STAG FIGHTING IN THE WATER.
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Ufl:
*TISP!ECB BY G. I- *s. VK
LoTRATIONS B\ K *». jri'NiON
LONDON
TTO * Vvi,
1908
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WITHYFORD
AN EXMOOR STORY
BY
ARTHUR O. FISHER
w
WITH FRONTISPIECE BY G. D. ARMOUR
AND FIVE ILLUSTRATIONS BY R. H. BUXTON
LONDON
CHATTO & WINDUS
1908
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All rights tetrvtd.
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AT THE FEET OF
ORFLA
I LAY THIS LITTLE BOOK
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THE OLD BLACK STAG
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CONTENTS
I. HOME, SWEET HOME .... 1
H. TATTERSALLS 11
m. " HOUNDS, GENTLEMEN, PLEASE " - - 23
IV. THE BROWN BIRDS .... 34
V. THE RUNAWAY 45
VI. THE VENISON DINNER 66
VH. BLACK ROCKS 66
VEH. WATER ACRE FARM .... 77
IX. " A FEW WORDS TO THE FIELD ** - 89
X. WTEHYFORD SHOW ----- 102
XL CYRUS'S COAT TAIL - - - - 116
XH. THE BEACON RUN 124
Xm. " TO BE, OR NOT TO BE " - - 139
XIV. THE GOLDEN CITY 149
XV. A SURPRISE 162
XVI. WAR 174
XVH. MOLLY EXPLAINS 184
XVIH. THE DERBY 194
XIX. THE NEW M.F.H. 206
XX. IT IS THE UNFORESEEN - - - - 215
XXI. IN WHICH CYRUS KNOWS - - - 227
XXn. THE RUN OF THE SEASON - - - 238
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ILLUSTRATIONS
HOUNDS AND STAG WERE FIGHTING
in the water - Frontispiece
THE OLD BLACK STAG - p. vi
" THEY BE ALL VERY LOVTN\ MISS " - To face p. 5
HIS QUICK THONG PURGED A PUPPY
OP HIS UNBELIEF - „ 28
THE MARE WENT SMARTLY OUT OF
THE YARD ,,119
THEY WERE STUMBLING THEIR WAY
HOME ,,248
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1
WITHYFORD
CHAPTER I
HOME, SWEET HOME
" Where the purple moor is stretching ever westward
to the sea,
And the hurty-pickers settin', picking hurties* o'er
the lea,
And the master's horn be blowin', o ! it's there
that I would be,
Where the purple moor is stretching ever westward
to the sea."
A.O.F.
" I be the best visherman this side of the
country, save my brother Villum, and he
have a longer arm than wot I got/'
was the unblushing remark of Jem Gat-
worthy, as he displayed a basket of freshly
caught trout. "Them be beauties, they
be, and I brought un for 'ee, miss, 'cos I
says to my good wuman as how you should
have trout for breakfast the first marnin'
you come home."
* " Hurties " : local name for whortleberries, the
picking of which is quite an industry.
1
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2 WITHYFORD
" Well, Jem, it is good of you, and I am
glad to be home; but tell me," said the
young lady, "you didn't catch all these
with a fly ?"
" No, miss," said he slyly, " but it be like
this : there bain't no w-a-ater in the river,
and vishing with a fly be a terrible waste
of time now-abouts."
The recipient of the gift, Molly Farquhar-
son, had arrived home the previous night .
from a " finishing " school in London, and
was now to settle down at home for good.
Her mother had died when she was quite
a child, and her father since then had lived
the life of a recluse, and grown hard in the
contemplation of his own loneliness. Fall-
ing rents had compelled him to abandon the
upkeep of the Manor, and he had removed
into a comfortable old Dower House, with a
battered appearance, tucked away in the
folds of the wild moorland hills which sur-
rounded it.
Nature seemed to have adopted this old
house, and shaded it into the landscape.
Years of storms and hard weather had
eaten into the old stone, and|had given it
a grey neutral tint.
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HOME, SWEET HOME 3
" Looks as crumbly as the outside of an
old Stilton," said Molly in one of her ir-
reverent moments ; but she was deeply at-
tached to her home, and only too glad to be
once more among its old familiar surround-
ings.
It was a relief to turn from the embar-
rassing subject of the obviously tickled
trout, so she asked Jem what news there
was in the village.
" There be a new p'leeceman," said he ;
and he looked as if he could have said more
on this topic, but the appearance of a half-
crown changed his thoughts.
" Thank 'ee kindly, miss," he remarked,
" and I wish 'ee good marninV
Then Molly's thoughts turned to break-
fast, and after she had done full justice to
the grilled trout, she felt it was good to be
back in the land of clotted cream and
hurties again.
She lingered some time over her break-
fast, till she remembered that the kennels
must be visited the first morning of her
arrival home. So she ordered out the old
white pony, and was soon jogging along
the path she knew so well that led "up
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4 WITHYFORD
over " and across the moor to the
kennels.
The sun was stifling hot down in the
valley, but cool currents of air greeted her
as she reached the open moor above,
breezes wafted inland from the ocean, and
as cool as sea-shells.
In front, as far as the eye could reach,
stretched hills of purple heather fold upon
fold.
Glancing back upon the green valleys
below, the hedge-bound fields were dwarfed
in their perspective to sheep-pens, over
which the drifting clouds threw idle shadows
that hovered and chased each other.
Presently Molly hit the moorland road,
which led down to the village in the hollow ;
and half-way up the next coomb were the
kennel cottages and buildings, looking as
white and as clean as a coast-guard station.
Benjamin, the huntsman, pretended it
was quite a surprise visit ; but, as a matter
of fact, he had been arranging things with
a view to their looking neat but natural all
the morning.
"Well, Benjamin," she said, "I have
come back.*
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44 THEY BE ALL YERY LOVIN', MISS.
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HOME, SWEET HOME 5
" Yes, miss, and I did so wesh for 'ee
to come ; you be pleased to step inside,
miss. We's huntin' three days a week
now, for deer be terrible plenty. I say to
Maaster, I can hunt four days a week, I can,
but I can't go for to sing in the choir a
Sunday when I been hollerin' to my hounds
all Saturday."
To change what was evidently a sore
subject, Molly pointed to a hound-skin
which looked partially cured, and made a
most effectual antimacassar in its protec-
tion of the best arm-chair.
" Oh, I could 'a cried about un," said
Benjamin. "He was such a promising
young hound ; he rinned right in, and the
deer got un on the brow antler. Maaster
was terrible upset about un, and so was I."
A chorus of eager voices greeted the
visitor when the kennel door was thrown
open, and cold noses were pressed against
her with impatient curiosity.
• " They be all very lovin', miss — all very
lovin'," said Benjamin reassuringly, at the
same time tapping around freely with the
handle of his whip. " Geet baak ! Geet
baak ! Jupiter, Rallywood, y'old twoad !"
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6 WITHYFORD
At last they were all benched, and they
stood in rows with wistful faces and affected
attitudes, jealous of individual notice as
the very ladies of the corps de ballet.
It was from the huntsman that Molly
heard for the first time of the American
gentleman, Mr. Potts, who had come to
live at the Manor, which had been empty
for so long ; and she wondered why she had
not been told anything about her father's
new tenant.
" I don't think he be much of a sports-
man, miss, but he seems a nice gentleman ;
and they dew say as he have a power o'
money, which is wanted terrible bad in
these parts."
Molly refrained from asking the hunts-
man any questions ; but as she rode home
her thoughts were much engrossed with
speculations as to what the new tenant
would prove to be like. What did the
family consist of, and would she have any
companions of her own age ? Though
she had only seen her father for a short time
since her arrival, why had he said nothing,
and thus created an air of mystery over
the new tenant ?
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HOME, SWEET HOME 7
She meant to set all doubts at rest on
these points without loss of time, so, on
arriving home, she gave the white pony to a
stable-lad, and promptly went to seek her
father.
" T' old Squire,'' to give him his familiar
name, was in his particular den studying
the design of a new boot to fit the ancient
ram who Molly always declared had gout
in his foot.
As his daughter burst into the room,
with a note of interrogation on her face,
he suspected the cause.
" Oh, father, who is Mr. Potts ? Why
haven't you told me all about him ?"
" Well, my dear, it is a little surprise ;
and as he is coming to lunch, you can judge
for yourself. I think I hear the bell now."
Whereupon Molly darted away, and reached
her own room by a circuitous route of dark
passages at the back of the house.
When she came down to luncheon, she
had changed her habit for a morning frock
fashioned in cunning simplicity, and even
her father noticed how beautiful she had
grown.
Mr. Cyrus Potts, of the U.S.A., meta-
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8 WITHYFORD
phorically drew in his breath with a hiss.
He was a susceptible bachelor, and had not
expected to meet such beauty in what he
termed a world-forgotten spot. The only
point that worried him was how to make
a good approach ; the bow she had given
him on introduction was distinctly stiff.
Had it been an American girl of his own
set, he would have chaffed her straight
away, and the ice would have been broken.
Womanlike, Molly noted his entire ap-
pearance at one glance, without apparently
even looking at him. She was conscious
that the hair was parted down the middle,
the face had a white and puffed appearance,
and that there was an abnormal width of
collar displayed.
There were no snobbish ideas, however,
about Mr. Potts ; he just confided to the
girl that he was in the dry-goods trade,
and, in partnership with another man, had
made a corner and a pile, and then, in his
enthusiasm for his business, hoped she just
followed him as he laid bare the hidden
mysteries of City finance and the ethics of
bulls and bears.
Molly's worldly horizon was extremely
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HOME, SWEET HOME 9
limited, and her visions of Americans did
not extend beyond the " Virginian " types
of romance, who brought with them the
wild free life of the prairie and a knowledge
of bucking bronchos — experiences which
would have been so usefully employed on a
wild colt she intended breaking.
This city type of American she had never
contemplated, and in her disappointment
she looked coldly on him.
Cyrus saw that if this luncheon party was
not going to lapse into monosyllables, he
had got to do the talking, and he rose to the
occasion like a man, and launched into a
topic uppermost in his mind. He no doubt
appreciated the unspoilt grandeur of this
old-world corner of England ; but, whether
from unselfish or purely commercial motives,
he was restless to share its beauty with
others ; so he turned to Mr. Farquharson,
and in all earnestness inquired if there
were no means of " getting the railway
and booming this country."
T' old Squire snorted in his amazement
and shook his head. Molly threw herself
into the breach.
Do you mean attract tourists ?" she
<<
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10 WITHYFORD
said. " Oh, father simply hates them ;
they scatter broken glass in the heather,
which leads to fearful accidents, and they
leave gates open, and the cattle stray.
Sometimes they do come in the summer,
and then they are just a nuisance."
Cyrus felt depressed. This was not quite
what he meant, but he knew it hopeless to
continue any further on this subject.
Conversation flagged a little after this
cul-de-sac, and Cyrus took the first oppor-
tunity that presented itself to make his
adieu. As he drove home to the Manor,
he felt that the girl, in spite of being so very
English, attracted him. She might have
been one of the beautiful heroines he had
read of in old English books, and in his
mind he wove an atmosphere of romance
about her which he decided was genuinely
antique.
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CHAPTER II
TATTEBSALLS
" You were reared in the creed of your fathers,
And schooled into what you should do,
In riding to hounds or in working a shoot,
And things better hidden from you.
" Soon the eye and the hand took the training,
The love of sport held you strong,
Before finding that life was not pleasure,
And, somehow, you'd started all wrong."
A. O. P.
" What a dull place London would be with-
out horses !" soliloquized Dick Foster, as
he picked out a smart hansom from Corn-
hill. Tattersalls was the order, " And now
for a holiday," said he, " out of this beastly
City." Dick Foster had spent many weary
months of close attendance in the thrice-
breathed air of the Stock Exchange, and,
having made an extra coup of a couple of
hundred odd, he wisely decided to close his
book and take a holiday.
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12 WITHYFORD
Dick had hoped very much, as a boy, to
go into the army when his time came ; but
when his time did come, circumstances
intervened, as they have a knack of doing
sometimes.
" The army is a very pleasant idea, my
boy," said his father, " but I simply can't
afford it ; what you have got to do is to
make money for yourself, and you won't
do that in the army, if you stay there till
you are bald-headed."
A strong love of horses was the leaven of
his existence so far, and the wholesomeness
of the life he led was reflected in his clear-
cut face and hard, lean figure.
By dint of early rides in the morning
before going to his work, he managed to
keep sufficiently fit to thoroughly enjoy the
one day's hunting a week which he always
made superhuman efforts to secure.
Now a lucky chance had given him a
good holiday in the early autumn, and his
thoughts turned to stag and the West
Country.
It was not to be thought of that he should
take his best hunter down, to be knocked
up with the hard ground and long days,
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TATTERSALLS 13
as he would have no time to rest him again
before the fox-hunting began ; he therefore
decided to take his hack with him, and
buy a couple of useful ones that he could
work hard and sell again when he had
finished with them. He knew something
about two which were to be sold at
Tattersalls', so he determined to go and
see them; and it was on this pleasant
errand that he hailed a cab in Cornhill
that afternoon.
As there were no special features in the
approaching sale on the morrow, there was
no crowcj in attendance to hamper him;
but the faint, compressed atmosphere of
stable seemed to be more compressed than
usual on this hot afternoon.
Dick dodged his way through the usual
knot of lookers-on, and lost no time in
finding a " runner."
" Certainly, sir, I know where they are,"
said the smart official.
" Let us have the chestnut out first where
I can see her," suggested Dick. She
proved to be a good-looking mare about
14-3, but with a ewe neck. Dick thought
of Ben Morgan's idea of the height of misery
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14 WITHYFORD
i.e., galloping downhill on a ewe-necked
horse, with his nose up in the air and a fly
in your eye. However, he was not to be
daunted by trifles ; there were very good
shoulders, which are most necessary if you
are to get down Devonshire coombs quickly ;
he also noted she was let down behind like a
greyhound, which ought to mean both pace
and power.
He said nothing of his thoughts, which
were hidden in that all-absorbing stare of
the connoisseur. On the principle of " how-
ever good her top, she can't fly," he began
his examination with the feet. These were
satisfactory and cool as paving-stones, he
mused, and about as solid ; then he felt
carefully round the coronet — nothing ab-
normal, no sidebone — and so on up the leg ;
a splint well placed he disregarded. The
hocks were a little coarse, but no harm
there ; a glance at the corner tooth revealed
the age of five. Then, standing the mare
facing the light, and shading the side of her
eye, he searched carefully for that tiny
bluish-white speck that means so much.
However, he could discover nothing amiss
with her eyes, and, after seeing her ridden,
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TATTERSALUS 15
and that she moved well and sound, he
decided she was worth risking.
The second was a bay horse, and that
went through a similar examination. The
shoulder was not quite so sloping in this
case, but the action would be compensated
for to some extent by good sloping pasterns ;
besides which, his head was put on the
right way, and he had lots in front of the
saddle.
They both looked as if they could gallop
and stay, and altogether Dick thought he
had found just what he wanted. He was
not going to let them slip through his
fingers for the sake of a pound or two, so,
in making his arrangements for some one
to bid for him, he left a good limit, which
he hoped they would not exceed.
His idea was to take them straight down
to Exmoor with his own horse, after the sale
on the following day.
Meanwhile there were a few sporting ac-
cessories to be bought for the trip. He
thought he needed a new hunting-flask;
one that would hold a long light drink
seemed advisable for hot weather, in a
country where the days were long ones and
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16 W1THYF0RD
inns an unknown quantity. Then there
were spur-straps, a thong and lash, hunting-
stocks, and innumerable small items, which
all required to be bought at the right shops,
which hunting-men seem to know by in-
stinct. Dick thought he had not done a
bad afternoon's work at Tattersalls' ; the
more he considered the matter the more
satisfied he became. He felt he had al-
ready begun his holiday, and as he sat
back in one of London's gondolas his
thoughts had already flown to Exmoor and
the little thatched inn which nestled in the
folds of those lovely heather-clad hills.
Many years ago, when he was a boy, his
father used to take him down to hunt from
this inn. How well he remembered it all —
the thatched front porch and the posts and
chains round the small flower-beds under
the front windows ! The three lime-washed
loose-boxes, too, the smallest of which
always fell to the lot of his pony-hunter
Sea-breeze.
Poor Sea-breeze ! What a hero he was
then, and so very real that it seemed odd
to think of him now as only a memory !
Nevertheless, the boxes remained, and it
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TATTERSALLS 17
was a comforting thought that he was going
to fill them with his own horses after all
these years.
It was quite an anxious morning for
Dick, till the horses, which he already re-
garded with an eye of ownership, were
actually knocked down to him at the sale.
He lost no time in getting them clothed
and taken over to Paddington, where his
own horse was awaiting them, and when
they were all there, comfortably boxed, he
began to feel more settled. Of course he
was buying a pig in a poke to some extent,
and by taking them straight away from
London it would be impossible to return
them within the time limit, should there be
anything radically wrong. Still, he must
risk something, and thought he might as
well risk it all.
As he settled himself down in an empty
first-class carriage, with plenty of his
favourite literature within easy reach, and
a carefully packed picnic - basket in the
rack, he felt at peace with the whole world,
and with himself in particular. The train
glided smoothly out of the station, and he
realized he was at last launched on his
2
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18 WTTHYFORD
holiday, and gave himself up to rosy visions
of the sport that was in store for him.
He was soon out of the rattle of the
walled-in track, once more in the open with
the silent fields and the fresh air. How
good it all seemed !
By the aid of a favourite magazine and
a long break for refreshments, the hours
soon passed, and he was surprised to find
himself at Tarnton, a station of grateful
memory. It was here he changed to a
small local train that was to take him to
his destination, over what always seemed
to him in the past years rather a switch-
back course.
The little engine strained and panted up
the hills, like a cockney rising to his
aspirates. Although it was quite dusk
now, he could just make out the light
flashes of the rushing streams below him ;
then the coombs rose up on each side of
the train, and the little horned sheep were
huddled together on the grass slopes above,
and in at the open window came the sweet
scent of the warm red earth.
The train stopped at a succession of
quaint little stations till by the dim light
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TATTERSALLS 19
of a very oily lamp Dick read "Mul-
worthy" in cramped letters on the glass,
and he knew he had got to the end of his
railway journey at least. There were still
fourteen up and down miles to be done over
the moor before he reached the Old Oak
Inn at Withyford, and he was pleased to
see a small wagonette with two horses
had been sent to meet him. His own
horses and his man were to put up near at
hand for the night, and to come out in the
morning to Withyf ordL
The porter having piled the luggage into
the wagonette, Dick took his seat by the
side of the driver, and they started out
into the now black night.
In the narrow lanes, where the growth on
the high banks met overhead, the darkness
was of that density that candle-lamps only
created visionary obstructions in the path,
and caused substances to look like shadows.
The driver, however, didn't seem concerned
with these things at all, butdozedat intervals,
from which he awoke with an upward tug
at the reins. It appeared to Dick as if the
dreamer was fishing, and the climax of the
bite jerked him into consciousness each time.
2—2
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20 WITHYFORD
It was only at a walking pace they could
crawl their way up the winding lanes that
lead to the moor. By the time they
reached the high ground there was more
light, and in the clear altitude the stars
shone like jewels. Presently a young, pale
moon came in view above the rim of the
valley, and lighted up the long white road
that lies like a ribbon across the dark hills.
The horses jerked for a moment out of
their stride as the dusky form of a huge
stag flitted across in front of them — no
doubt on his way to the feeding-grounds,
and the carriage lights had startled him.
Swiftly and silently he moved, like a ghost,
till lost in the dark shadow of the lower
coomb.
London seemed far enough away now
to Dick, and visionary like some bad day-
dream. A rasping sound on the wheel
broke in upon his thoughts. The carriage
was going downhill at last, and the driver
had got the brake on hard.
Down below Dick could just make out
the thatched gables of the inn-roof — a very
welcome sight. Meanwhile the wagonette
was swaying from side to side in its descent.
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TATTERSALLS 21
The only reason the horses kept on their
legs was that, owing to the pace, they were
frightened to fall — at least, this was what
Dick in his thankfulness surmised as they
pulled up at the inn-door in safety.
The worthy proprietor of the inn, Mr.
Feathers, after the old-fashioned custom,
came to the door to greet his guest.
" I don't know as 'ow I should 'a knowed
'ee, sir, you have growed so. You be
pleased to come and see your room, sir, and
I'll have dinner ready in ten minutes, I
will."
Dick was enchanted with it all. His
was a long low room with a black oak beam
across the ceiling. The old furniture looked
quaint and restful, and in itself suggested
slumber, or rather that deliciously repose-
ful state of mind that exists between being
called in the morning and the absolute
necessity of getting out of bed, when one's
thoughts wander in pleasant bypaths.
Mrs. Feathers followed on the heels of
Dick, and informed him she had left the
window open, because she knew what
gentlemen liked. It was not long before
he was doing ample justice to a dinner in
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22 W1THYF0RD
which roast chicken and grilled tomatoes
were the chief features of the menu. This
was followed by a reflective pipe or two,
and then the night's rest that awaits a
faultless digestion as well as an easy con-
science.
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CHAPTER III
"hounds, gentlemen, please"
" Ah ! it's many a time on the hill-aide
You've watched the hounds drawing below,
When catching the first faintest whimper,
You'd snatch at your bridle and go.
" Why, you know the game better than I do,
On the tops of your toes to the Meet
You would just pick your steps like a lady,
And the way you would jump was a treat."
A. O. F. : To an Old Mare.
Mb. Cybus Potts had a magnificent
stud of hunters. He had wisely put the
matter of horses in the hands of some one
who knew what was required for the
country, and he got them regardless of
price. These horses were a considerable
source of pride to him, and looks of approval
which were cast at them the rider often
attributed to himself, as being caused by
his own " high-grade appearance" in the
saddle.
28
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24 WITHYPORD
As a matter of fact, Cyrus was not cut
out by nature for a horseman, or the gods
would not have furnished him with short,
round legs, and made good the deficiency
in length by a long' back above the saddle.
His was a typically bad seat ; there was
something about his knees that wouldn't
bend into the saddle ; and so big was he
below the knee, his feet turned up away
from the horse, and his brown Butcher
boots looked like flower-pots.
On the morning in question Molly noted
all this with much disfavour.
Cyrus had invited the foxhounds to
meet at the Manor, and had written
offering to lend Molly one of his best
hunters for the occasion. This offer her
father had urged her to accept, and she had
accordingly done so. Nevertheless, she
did not see why Jane, her white pony,
should not have done quite well, seeing
they were only cubbing, and nothing to
jump but a few banks on the moor.
When she was mounted on the pride of
Cyrus Potts's stud — a grey mare of fault-
less shape — she altered her opinion slightly
about Jane being good enough. It was
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"HOUNDS, GENTLEMEN, PLEASE" 26
such a delight to handle a horse that moved
under her with such light-heartedness and
with the manners of a curate, too, she
soliloquized.
This was Mr. Cyrus Potts's first experi-
ence of entertaining the hunt, and he
was most anxious that everything should
be done in all correctness. He had not
been able to grasp quite the delicate dis-
tinctions between a late cubbing and a
fox-hunting meet, and therefore cherry
brandy and sandwiches made their due
appearance at eight o'clock, and, to use the
sporting parlance of the master, "found
few takers." Indeed, Mr. Crow, the
master, was not wont to set much store on
entertaining, but considered it pure waste
of time. For this reason he usually pre-
ferred the cross-roads, but, partly from
good nature and partly from the liberal
subscription he had received, made an
exception in favour of the new tenant on
this occasion.
Mr. Potts, with crisp phrases of jocu-
larity, was making himself most affable
to his miscellaneous collection of guests,
urging them all with one accord to get off
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26 WITHYFORD
their horses and come in, which no one
seemed inclined to do.
At last the master, thinking he had spent
enough of the morning at the shrine of
politeness, made a move, and took his
hounds down the long Manor drive out on
to the moorland common. On this common
were some little farm homesteads dotted
about, from which quarter he had lately
received many poorly-spelt epistles of com-
plaint about the audacity of the foxes and
their penchant for pullets, which, funnily
enough, were all about to lay.
Complaints in the form of messages
might be discounted to some extent; but
he knew when his good folk were moved to
put their pens to paper they must indeed
be labouring under the sense of some
grievous wrong. He therefore determined
to do what he could to remedy it.
All one side of the steep valley was
clothed with thick gorse, through which the
sheep had made little wriggling tracks over
the broken turf. The master stopped for
an instant, just rounded up his hounds, and
then waved them in.
The field were obliged to go in single file
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"HOUNDS, GENTLEMEN, PLEASE" 27
in the narrow track that led along the rim
of the steep valley. Cyrus's blood-horse,
which had been " tittuping " every inch
of the road and refusing any settled pace,
now moved with the agility of a step-dancer,
as the intersecting gorse pricked his legs ;
sometimes he would stop and jump stray
pieces at unexpected moments in a way that
Cyrus found most disconcerting, and, in-
deed, there were frequently glimpses of the
horizon to be seen between him and the
saddle on the occasion of these unexpected
little buck-jumps. He had quite made up
his mind that, if they found, he was not going
to charge down that steep, if his horse could
be induced to leave the others and go
round. Indeed, it was not an inviting place
to get down with an excited horse mad-
dened by the sight of a pack of hounds in
full view going away from him up the oppo-
site hill.
Hounds were working every inch of the
gorse, and not a sound came. It was quite
clear to the master the colony of cubs he
hoped to rattle in all directions were not at
home. He was about to put the horn to
his lips to blow " Hounds out," when there
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28 WITHYFORD
was a yell from an excited farmer down
at the bottom of the coomb. The new
Entry threw up their heads at once in a be-
wildered way ; luckily this was followed by
the eager, bell-like tones of an old hound
down at the bottom, and they raced to it.
" H-i-i-ck together " came from the whip,
and his quick thong purged a puppy of his
unbelief in a twinkling.
The master, not knowing where the
cub was going to break, begged his field
to hold hard for one moment ; mean-
while the shut-in valley rang with the
clamour of hounds, and horses pawed the
turf and trembled in their excitement.
They were not kept long in doubt ; an old
fox, as big as a collie dog, was seen boring
his way at a gallop between the furze on
the opposite hUl.
The second whip moved down to stop
hounds, but the master signalled to him to
let them go, and go they did, screaming
like furies. The music was much too good
to last, and it died down a little as they
topped the rise.
Molly's mare looked as if she would like
to fly the valley, but by judicious handling
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HIS QUICK THONG PURGED A PUPPY OF HIS UNBELIEF.
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"HOUNDS, GENTLEMEN, PLEASE " 29
she was induced to go straight in her
descent, and not sideways, Molly knowing
full well that a slip to a horse in a slanting
position meant rolling down to the bottom.
At last she was safely down the valley,
only to find that the fox had turned along
the top of the opposite hill, and was making
for the head of the coomb. She was now not
far behind hounds which were going parallel
to her, and simply racing on the grass
above.
She reflected how well the mare was
galloping under her hand, and felt herself
to be quite the mistress of the situation
now. Presently the voice of Cyrus behind
said:
" Well, Miss Farquharson, I wasn't going
down that place like a fly on the wall, but
I've got here just the same."
" Headed," was the short explanation of
his luck that she flung to him over her
shoulder.
If the fox was headed, he had a good
point as an alternative ; for he had scorned
the wooded valleys, and was now making
the pace a cracker over the open heather.
There were no rabbit-holes to speak of ; a
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30 W1THYFORD
concealed " grip " accounted for the whip,
but it was " wunnerful soft fallin'," and he
scrambled on again, and set his horse going
in no time.
They had been running now for twenty
minutes, without the semblance of a check,
and hounds were still ahead, and simply
driving their fox. Where a few little
horned sheep had foiled the scent, the pack
was seen to open out like a fan for a moment,
as the wise ones came to the front ; then
they drove to the right, the formation
changed again, and they swept on as before.
Molly's whole being thrilled in the mad
excitement of the chase ; surely life had
nothing better to offer than the glorious
intoxication of such a gallop. Bide as she
would, she could not reduce the distance
between herself and that flying pack.
They had run now over the wide expanse
of Blackerton Moor, and were once more
on the brink of the enclosed country. The
first obstacle was a nasty bank, with a ditch
on the take-off side, overgrown and blind
with brambles. Molly chose a place where
two stiff rails did duty for a gate, and,
pulling her mare into a trot, she went
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"HOUNDS, GENTLEMEN, PLEASE" 31
slowly up to them and popped over.
Some of the farmers, whose mounts were
not exactly used to timber, breathlessly
dismounted, and scrambled down the ditch
and up the bank, their horses following
with an impatience that often bundled their
owners unceremoniously down the other
side. In an incredibly short time they
were all mounted again and spurring on
valiantly to the front.
The fox was beginning to run short now
and double, but the pack were too close
to him for his wiles to be successful, and
they pushed him out in the open once
more.
An intervening hill now hid the chase from
view, and the field rode eagerly to see what
the summit would reveal. Hounds were
in the same field with their fox; closer
and closer they drew, till Gannymede and
Chorister were snapping at his brush.
In a moment it was all over ; a rolling,
growling mass of hounds, " Whoo-op !" and
the master was off his horse and among
them. No necessity to hold his hunter for
the moment ; there it stood, with out-
stretched neck and legs wide apart, while
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32 WITHYFORD
the short docked tail seemed to twitch in
unison with its rapid pulses.
Molly, too, was off her hunter, standing
her with head up to the wind, and in less
than two minutes the mare was impatient
to be moving again, but Molly meant to walk
her straight home after such a morning.
The master, Mr. Crow, was not a courtier
in speech, though Molly thought him one
in deed, when he handed her the brush, with
a few complimentary words.
Cyrus arrived before the fox was broken
up, and, after an earnest conclave with the
whip, he emerged triumphantly with a pad.
As they rode home together Molly
thanked him enthusiastically for the loan
of the good grey.
She meant to be very nice to him indeed,
and there was a glow of admiration in
Cyrus's expression as he listened. The gates
of her home were now in view, and Molly
had an intuitive feeling that Cyrus was
working up to a sentimental good-bye, so
she hastily changed the subject to the long
brush which was tied to her saddle.
Cyrus dived into his coat-tail pocket,
and produced his pad with much pride.
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"HOUNDS, GENTLEMEN, PLEASE" 33
" Now, this is what I call a cheap trophy,"
said he ; " I only gave the whip a sovereign
for it."
" A sovereign !" said Molly, with a look
of arch simplicity. " I do think they might
have given you the whole fox for that."
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CHAPTER IV
THE BROWN BIRDS
" Remember my first partridge day ?
That I shall ever do.
I hear the solemn keeper say,
* Don't you shoot at him, Master A. ;
Shoot where Vs going to !' "
A. 0. P.
In the morning the hard knuckles of John,
the valet at the Old Oak, summoned Dick
from the land of dreams. The formal
tapping was followed by a series of hollow-
sounding blows, as an unwieldy tub was
bundled into his bedroom. This was ac-
companied by a strong smell of stable,
which the valet had acquired in his dual
oapacity of ostler.
To senses not yet blunted by tobacco
this odour seemed the most forcible feature
in the awakening.
Dick, from under his half-closed eyelids,
was delighted to watch this honest func-
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THE BROWN BIRDS 36
tionary now staggering with two huge
cans of water, which he had filled from the
Exe. These he poured into the tub with
noise enough for a cataract ; then he
stumped about, shaking the room, and
finally drew up the blind and departed.
Soon the air became fragrant with the
promise of grilled ham, and Dick rose to
meet it. He had just finished his breakfast
when the clatter of horses 9 feet on the
cobbles of the y&rd apprised him of the
fact that his horses had come in, so he
strolled out to inspect them.
"How did they behave on the moor,
Johnson ?"
" Come along a treat, sir," said the en-
thusiastic cockney groom.
When he had seen them rubbed down
after their fourteen - mile ride, Dick's
thoughts turned to a programme for the
day.
Mr. Feathers wished to know if he would
be pleased to come with him and look for
partridges on some rough ground he owned.
Dick, nothing loath, promptly unpacked his
gun, and in five minutes was ready to
start. As the ground was chiefly thick
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36 WITHYFORD
cover of bracken and gorse, the services of
Duke the setter were necessary. Duke
was a red setter of a faded and second-
hand appearance, who spent his days
dreaming about the stable-yard, except
when he was very wet, when he slept on
the carriage cushions. The sight of a gun,
however, galvanized him into a state of wild
hilarity, which was only to be controlled by
constant cuffing on the part of Mr. Feathers,
whenever he came within reach.
The day promised to be a very hot one,
and John was told off to carry a small jar
of beer, apparently for the worthy host's
special benefit, he being very stout, and
liable to sudden thirst.
Mr. Feathers was a good shot at his own
particular kind of shooting. He liked
birds to get up at his feet, and didn't even
wait for them to get into "cocking dis-
tance." He just banged at them as soon
as he saw them.
Dick was horrified to see him using his
gun at one moment as an alpenstock, with
the butt on the ground to help him up a
steep bank. Dick pointed out unpleasant
results might follow. Mr. Feathers looked
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THE BROWN BIRDS »7
bewildered for one instant, and altered the
gun to half-cock.
With this slight modification they con-
tinued their way up to the top of the hill,
when Duke ran into his first covey of birds
without the formality of pointing. Mr.
Feathers, who was panting like a sheep
from his exertions, pulled wildly at the
locked triggers ; then he looked blankly at
his gun, and said in his despair, " I'll go
home, sir, I will." He was, however in-
duced to reconsider this, and solaced him-
self with a glass of beer.
Then his wrath turned to the culprit,
Duke, who was lucky enough to be well
out of earshot galloping after fresh con-
quests in the far distance.
It was some time before he could be
induced to return, and his owner displayed
a command of varied and startling epithets
to suit the occasion.
At last he came to heel with bowed
head and lolling tongue, only to receive
severe cuffing.
After this he seemed to settle down
considerably, and worked admirably within
gunshot every inch of the ground.
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38 WITHYFORD
Mr. Feathers had just remarked, " He
can do it when he likes/ 9 when Duke found
a covey in the bracken. He was pointing
this time, and perfectly rigid, except for
the corners of his mouth, which puckered
into a grin of excitement.
Dick slowly walked up to him at the
ready, but the birds had moved, and he had
to be waved gently forward. His attitude
never relaxed, but his legs moved me-
chanically, and suggested a dog walking
in his sleep.
He had hardly gone five yards when the
burr of the covey rising broke the spell,
and he dashed forward in spite of yells of
" down charge."
Dick was lucky enough to get a left and
right, and Mr. Feathers accounted for
another, and so they did fairly well out of
this covey.
They worked on with varying fortunes
during the morning, sometimes adding a
scuttling rabbit to the bag, or a wood-
pigeon that had not allowed for the choke
barrel in measuring his distance of safety.
Altogether John's burden was getting
a rather heavy one, and by the time they
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THE BROWN BIRDS 39
reached the hill where lunch was to meet
them, he was glad to lay down " the bag."
Alas ! no lunch had yet arrived, and they
scanned the opposite hill for a sign of the
approach of the man with the basket.
Presently a dot appeared on the horizon,
and it was seen to be the bearer of the
welcome lunch.
They were watching his progress down
the hill-side, when they saw a blackcock
rise almost at his feet and come sailing
across the coomb. He looked like a small
cannon-ball whizzing through the air. On,
on he came, and confident in his pace, he
had no intention of being shot for years.
Dick snatched up his gun and let go by
instinct into the blue about two yards
ahead, the tight ball fluffed out for one
instant as the shot struck, and then whirled
over and over till it fell with a delightful
thump on the turf.
"You be pleased, sir, to have a drink
after that," said Mr. Feathers.
"I deserve some lunch, anyhow," said
Dick, and with that he proceeded to dive
into the basket.
The lunch was not exactly of the pdti de
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40 WITHYFORD
foi8 gras order, but rather of that plain
description which is calculated to improve
the shooting than otherwise.
Duke was not forgotten during the lunch,
and performed prodigious feats in the art
of catching and bolting whole enormous
pieces of meat. His powers of mastication
he was, no doubt, reserving should the fates
put any retrieving in his way later.
After this heavy meal he grew senti-
mental, in the manner of his kind, and
wormed his way up to lick the face of his
generous patron.
Dick was about to repel this advance
with a cloud of tobacco smoke, when Mr.
Feathers, with unusual animation, ex-
claimed, " You'll spoil his nose, sir, you
will. You s'excuse me speaking, but he'd
run into his birds all day."
Once launched on to this topic, he went
on to explain how he couldn't abide to see
all them gentlemen smoking cigarettes,
when there was a check. How the wind
took un, and directly hounds got a whiff of
un they was no more use to pick up the
line. In proof of his argument he went on
to show that hounds couldn't run the line
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THE BROWN BIRDS 41
of a stag if they ran through any smoke
when the gorse was being burnt.
Whether this argument had its source in
Mr. Feathers's own dislike of tobacco Dick
did not pursue, but what he did assert was
they had wasted enough time talking, and
had better be getting on. The game was
then sent back by the luncheon-bearer, and
the order of march was resumed. Duke's
unsullied nose was soon at work, and
checked him in his stride with a jerk of a
cord. Working his way up to the covey
he had so suddenly winded, he stood like
a statue till another brace was added to the
bag. This exhausted the partridge-ground,
and Mr. Feathers suggested an adjourn-
ment to the snipe-bog.
This was not a soft place that would take
one up to the knees, but a good quaking
bog. " Y'um reckon would swallow a
wagon and horses," remarked Mr.
Feathers. " You be pleased not to tread
where it is very green, sir," he said. Duke
however, moved over it like a pixie till at
last he pointed, and Dick made his way
up cautiously within gunshot, testing the
ground with his foot before putting his
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42 WITHYFORD
full weight on it. He was glad to add the
first snipe to the bag, which, in its variety,
began to range over the entire gamut of
the poulterer's shop. The bird, unluckily,
fell on an ominous piece of turf, with no
sign of surface water. On being tested
with a stick, it seemed to be bottomless,
and Duke had to be entrusted with the
delicate mission of retrieving the quarry.
It was an anxious moment when he
seized it in his capacious mouth with
something of a gulp ; but a new and start-
ling exclamation roared at him by his
owner arrested his jaws, and by constant
exhortation he was induced to bring the
bird reluctantly to comparative terra firma.
The game now went on merrily, snipe
getting up in all directions, Mr. Feathers
being particularly quick in slamming them
down before they got into their stride.
Once, in his excitement, he risked an un-
certain place, only to subside into a pit
of black ooze ; and as he tilted the beam at
seventeen stone, the suction was con-
siderable, and he was extricated with
difficulty.
Once on the sound turf again, John pro-
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THE BROWN BIRDS 43
ceeded to give his master a spring cleaning
with a wisp of heather, which, whether
from his exertions or from force of habit,
he accompanied with a faint blowing
sound.
As soon as Mr. Feathers was made pre-
sentable, and had had some slight refresh-
ment, it was decided to make a move for
home.
The exciting possibilities of bog and
snipe being over, Dick gave himself up to
the contemplation of the day's sport as
they walked home in silence, and recalled
many more pretentious days of shooting
which had given him less pleasure. It
was getting towards evening now, and an
intense stillness was on the moor. A large
red s\m was sinking over the ridge of the
coomb, and in the glory of his departure
clothing earth's details with a purple
shadow; then, as he sank, throwing up
golden shafts of light high into the blue,
a light that reached and gilded the cloud
atoms that floated overhead.
There was something in this moorland
sunset that appealed to Dick and soothed
his nature. He gazed, and read infinite
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44 WITHYFORD
comfort and promise in the vision, in what
form or kind he knew not, only that it was
impossible to look deep down into that
golden mystery of oloudland and remain a
pessimist.
It was doubtful if Mr. Feathers was
affected to quite the same extent, but even
he went as far as to break the silence by
remarking, " 'Tis a wunnerful nice feelin'
evenin', sir, I reckon."
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CHAPTER V
THE RUNAWAY
" When I meet you must I greet you
With a haughty little stare,
Scarcely glancing where you're prancing
By me on the chestnut mare ?"
Whyte-Melville.
Dick was cantering along the grass that
skirted Winston Common, giving the chest-
nut mare her first breather, when she sud-
denly quickened her stride and took hold
of the bit. He looked about to see what
had startled her, when he became aware
that he was fast being overhauled by a long-
legged, galloping, grey colt ridden by a lady.
One glance at his outstretched neck was
enough. " Bolted," he muttered, and at the
same instant grabbed at the rein ; but the
grey was too quick for him, and, swerving
in his stride, he went off at a tearing pace.
The girl was making plucky efforts as
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46 WITHYFORD
she passed to get the horse's nose down,
but with only a plain snaffle it was hopeless.
Dick shouted, " Turn him up the Beacon,"
and the girl heard. The Beacon was four-
teen hundred feet high, and Dick rightly
surmised if it was a grass-fed colt he would
have had enough " Beacon " by the time
he got to the top.
It was no good galloping on the heels of
the runaway, which would only madden
him, so he cantered along the track, just
keeping him in sight.
He had not long to wait before the steep
ascent and thick heather began to tell their
own tale, and the pace of the grey per-
ceptibly slackened ; from a gallop he soon
slid into a trot, and then stopped altogether
and gazed madly about him. He seemed
to think he would like to charge down the
hill again, but the rider had other views.
" She's a plucky one," murmured Dick,
as he saw the girl cram her horse round
and set him going with the whip. " She's
going to make him finish the Beacon, and
I suppose I ought to go too," he added.
Before he reached the summit he saw
the grey standing there in an attitude of
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THE RUNAWAY 47
deep dejection ; the look of frenzied hilarity
had gone out of him, and was replaced by a
much more humble mien. The lady turned
as she heard his footsteps, and then Dick
didn't look at the horse any more.
She had dismounted, and now came
forward, and in the simplest way possible
thanked him for his help, and expressed
her regret she should have been the cause
of bringing him so much out of his way.
Dick's ready tongue failed him for once ;
perhaps it was the sudden consciousness
that he knew the girl well, and yet to his
knowledge he had never seen her before ;
only the voice was familiar — and how
lovely she was !
He managed a few commonplace words in
return, and then took refuge in the subject
of bitting colts, and whether boiling oil
was too flippant a punishment for a coach-
man who sent his young mistress out with
such a bit.
"Well," she said, "it was my fault. I
told the man to put on a snaffle ; and now,
having marched up this hill, I suppose I
must march down again."
" It was rather a quick march up, wasn't
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48 WTTHYFORD
it ?" said Dick. " I should give him a little
more time ; he looks rather done."
" May I ask if your name is Miss Far-
quharson ?" he suddenly inquired.
" You used to call me ' Molly,' " she
replied naively.
" Of course," he said ; " and I have been
treating you with all this formality too."
" Oh, pray go on ; I rather like it, and I
am grown up now."
Ignoring this, he went on, " And don't
you remember how you used to ride my old
pony Seabreeze ?"
"Yes, straddle-legged," she interrupted
teasingly. " I have given that up now ;
it has grown too fashionable."
" I see you haven't given up being
facetious."
" Oh, I have really, only on meeting you
I just fell into the old vein again. I have
grown quite staid, and altered dreadfully."
" Please don't alter any more," he said.
" Now, when you have quite done chaffing
me, I think we ought to be going," replied
Molly, and, throwing the reins over her
horse's head, she commenced to lead him
down the steep. When they reached the
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THE RUNAWAY 49
road, Dick helped her to mount again.
One dear little patent-leather boot she
placed confidingly into the sort of cradle
he had made with both hands to receive it.
One, two, three, and she was up.
" I don't think he will bolt with me again
going home," she remarked.
" No, I don't think so," he said ; " the
fact is, I took the liberty of shutting his
mouth."
" What do you mean ?"
" Well," said Dick, " I just tightened that
nose-band three holes, and if he does play
the fool, I think you will find you can hold
him. In any case, he won't open his mouth
quite so wide, I promise you."
Molly laughed and said, " What a helpful
person you are !" aad then a thought struck
her : " By the by, what are you doing this
afternoon ? Will you come over and see
father ?"
Dick said he certainly would. Then,
" Good-bye for the present," she said, and
turned her horse homewards.
It was a long way back to Withyf ord, and
Dick took the opportunity to put the chest-
nut through her paces. It was true, she
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50 WITHYFORD
was inclined with her ewe neck to poke her
nose a little, but otherwise the purchase
seemed a very lucky one.
He decided to have the bay horse out in
the afternoon for his ride over to the Squire,
and find out what he was like, and so give
them both light work for a few days, before
the serious business of stag-hounds.
Molly had given her father a glowing
picture of the adventures of the morning,
in which Dick loomed largely in the fore-
ground. The Squire remembered Dick
quite well, .but didn't respond to his
daughter's enthusiasm ; the hard fist of
necessity had pounded all the poetry out
of his nature. In recollecting Dick, he at
the same time could not help recalling the
fact that the connexion was not a wealthy
one. He had lived much too near to
poverty to desire any similar experience for
his daughter. Why was it not Cyrus who
had tied the wretched colt's nose up and
made him go like a curate ? These thoughts
he kept wisely to himself, only there was
not any eagerness noticeable in the tones
in which he greeted Dick when he arrived
a few moments later.
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THE RUNAWAY 51
Dick soon ingratiated himself, however ;
they had one great topic in common — viz.,
horse. T old Squire had been a great
horseman in his day, and the love of horses
still remained to him, a redeeming trait in
a mind now case-hardened with the growing
conviction that only money mattered.
The old man now warmed to his subject.
Dick listened, and from time to time added
a little fuel to the conversation when in
danger of flagging. This was so easily done
from the thoroughness of his own study of
the matter.
T' old Squire was delighted ; he had tried
to talk horse with Cyrus, and the memory
of it filled him with disgust. At that
moment he even hated the necessity for
Cyrus, but that necessity was there, and as
forcible as a man with a club.
Molly thought the visitor had done
enough duty, so she burst into the room
precipitantly, with the request that he
would come and help her with the colt.
" More colt ?" said Dick.
" Yes ; we are trying to lounge him, and
he will only go round one way."
Dick arrived on the scene, to find the
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52 WITHYFORD
young horse with his head in the air towing
a small boy round the field.
" The first thing you want to do with that
animal is to break his neck/ 9 said he.
" He preciously nearly broke mine this
morning," she added.
" I know, and that's what I have come
about," replied Dick ; " but we must have
him back in the stable first."
He then proceeded to cut off three or
four inches of tail hair, and he carefully
bound it round a plain snaffle-bit. " This
will give him something to chew," he re-
marked, " and keep his mouth soft too ;"
and then, with the aid of two long straps
on a surcingle, he got his head in a proper
position. " Now we will start him round
on the long reins, and you will see the
difference."
The colt moved round in perfect control,
holding himself together, and picking up
his feet like a park hack.
" It is just splendid," said Molly ; " I
am so awfully obliged to you."
" You must give him a little every morn-
ing, not too much at a time, and he will get
as handy as a polo pony," said Dick.
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THE RUNAWAY 63
A white-aproned maid appeared at this
moment, and Molly said it was a signal for
tea, so they both returned to the house.
As they entered the hall, Dick cast an
appreciative eye at his surroundings. The
old oak panelling appealed to him im-
mensely ; it made such a good background,
too, for horns of generations of wild red
deer that had lived their happy lives amid
the woods and streams at the very gates,
and now they all looked so neighbourly in
the sanctuary of the old hall. Then there
was the most attractive row of foxes' masks,
set up by some great master of his craft,
in which every emotion expressed by a fox's
visage was faithfully depicted — masks that
suggested the slyness of the vulpine brain
at work to elude his pursuers, and others
the lion-like determination of the veteran
as he buried his teeth in the leading hound.
"Yes, they are good," said Molly. "I
am always so sorry when I see a game fox
set up in the likeness of a fat pug-dog that
had died of apoplexy."
As they strolled into the drawing-room
Dick became aware of the tones of a man
talking with a strong American accent.
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54 WITHYFORD
Cyrus had dropped in to tea, as was his
wont lately, and was in the act of initiat-
ing Mr. Farquharson into the subtleties of
the cake-walk, which he thought would
prove quite " a star turn " at the village
concert. The Squire's opinion was ex-
pressed in a series of grunts. He was
evidently struggling with strong emotion,
and welcomed the interruption caused by
the arrival of his daughter with Dick.
Cyrus was duly presented, and both men
bowed stiffly. Although outwardly polite,
Dick eyed the stranger with disfavour.
Cyrus, however, was certainly amusing,
and was bent on making himself pleasant,
and after a little the atmosphere became
less strained.
On the following day there was to be a
venison dinner in the moorland metropolis
in connexion with the hunt, and this was
to be followed by a village concert.
Cyrus's suggestion was that the Squire
and Dick should drive with him in his
brake, and so Molly could have the
brougham and come to the concert.
This having been arranged to his satisfac-
tion, he bid them good-bye for the present.
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THE RUNAWAY 55
Dick also rose up to go, but the Squire
pressed him to come into his sanctum and
smoke for a little.
He then proceeded to explain to Dick
what a particular friend he had found in
Mr. Potts, and how kind and considerate
he was as a tenant in the Manor.
As Dick rode back to the inn he thought
matters over, and although Molly's name
was not mentioned (except in a general
sense), he came to the conclusion it was the
girl's future the Squire had in view, and
that he himself had received a hint not to
get in the way.
Whether he was inclined to take that
hint he was not at all sure.
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CHAPTER VI
THE VENISON DINNER
" And they'll bid you to dine on the daintiest fare,
And they'll tell you some tales would make many
men stare."
Whytb-Mblvillb.
Mb. Feathers was to provide the banquet
under the directions of the hunt secretary,
and he made an early arrival in the metro-
polis for the purpose. All day long he
busied in and out the hall, and with a total
disregard of appearances, walked about
the main street carrying glasses and dishes,
which, by reason of his peculiar know-
ledge and forcible manner, he had been
able to commandeer for the occasion.
Once, in heated dispute with a waiter, he
was seen to punctuate the points of his
argument with the hand that held the
carving-forks.
As the day wore on, his unflagging energy
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THE VENISON DINNER 67
began to instil something like order into
affairs.
The tables were arranged on both sides
of the hall, and the master's table across
the top was accentuated by heavy bunches
of asters at intervals.
As the farmers and friends of the hunt
were invited, carts and other vehicles were
arriving all the afternoon till the metropolis
was agog with hungry guests. When the
master arrived with his party punctually
at six o'clock, many of the guests were
awaiting him at the side tables, and imme-
diately on his entry every seat in the hall
was filled.
The hum of conversation was soon
drowned in a substantial course of codfish,
which Farmer Garge remarked, in the first
breathing moment, " was a safer fish than
them 'ere thickey herrin's to eat when you
was in a hurry."
The buzz of many voices, which had
again arisen like a tidal wave, was now
awed into silence by the arrival of gigantic
joints of fresh venison, that had been ren-
dered tender by reason of the chase and
not by dint of keeping. Mercifully this
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58 WITHYFORD
was so, or the presence of so much venison
might have been inconvenient to all but
the very strong.
However, the farmers were no strangers
to " rinned venison." They knew it well,
and preferred it to four-year-old mutton,
so they lingered long and lovingly over
this course, and came again and again.
After a period of belt-loosening silence,
conversation sprang again with the arrival
of apple-dumplings. This was a light,
frivolous dish, and considered more or less
optional, so when the master graciously
leant across the table and asked Farmer
Garge what he could tempt him with, his
guest replied he would try " some of that
'ere wobble ; I see'd mi last year, but I
never had none of un," he added, pointing
to a trembling blanomange in his vicinity.
Sweets were followed by a much more
unanimous course of cheese, after which
came tobacco, and a desire from the
master that they should fill their glasses.
There was a rap on the table which pro-
duced immediate silence, and he rose to
propose the first toast of the evening —
" Prosperity to Stag-hunting." This was
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THE VENISON DINNER 59
received with rapturous applause, and then
Farmer Garge rose to reply from the
farmers' point of view. He said without
hounds they couldn't sell their young horses,
and without horses they couldn't sell their
corn, and what he lost in turnips he got
back in venison ; and then, speaking as a
sportsman, he'd as soon shoot his wife as a
stag.
" Your wife bain't here, but I shall tell
un," came a voice from the back, and
the rest was drowned in roars of merriment.
Then there were murmurs for the Squire,
but Mr. Farquharson had no intention of
making a speech — in fact, speech at most
times came to him with difficulty — so he
just sat on and tried to look unconcerned.
However, the hints became too strong to
be ignored, and he eventually stood up and
said, " Gentlemen, I am sorry I cannot
make you a speech, but if my opinion
about sport will interest you, I think the
world is divided into two kinds of people —
viz., sportsmen and fools. Gentlemen, sort
yourselves ; " and he sat down. There was
just one second of silence while they drew
in their breath and the idea simultaneously,
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60 WTTHYFORD
and then came shouts of delight and much
drumming on the floor.
Then the master rose and said he was
indeed sorry to break up so harmonious a
company, but that some of his party were
due to assist at the concert in the school-
room, which was about to begin.
Many of the guests who had come long
distances now started for their homes, their
roads often being only mere cart-tracks over
miles of moor, with few landmarks ; but
the old moor had no perils for them, and,
once clear of the dangers of the village,
the farmer usually dozed, and the horse did
the rest, making a delightful partnership
with one common interest — viz., to get
home.
All those who lived in the neighbourhood
of the metropolis came to the concert, and
the room filled to overflowing. In the
first impression there was nothing to dis-
tinguish this from any other village concert ;
there was the same heated atmosphere
above, and icy draught on the floor, but
these defects were unheeded by an audience
that had assembled for the purpose of
enjoyment, and meant to get it.
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THE VENISON DINNER 61
Molly's was the first name on the pro-
gramme. She didn't pretend to sing, and
still further disliked the idea of singing in
public ; but she had been pressed to do so,
and as they were old friends she consented.
She sang " Coming thro' the Rye," and,
without being theatrical, she put just suffi-
cient expression in it to bring down the
house. They stood up and cheered, and
continued to clap long after she had re*
sumed her seat among the audience.
The next singer was Mr. William lip-
worthy, who was celebrated for his com-
mand of seventeen verses of " Uncle Tom
Copley." These he proceeded to render.
All went well till he had got to the eighth,
when he came to a check and threw up his
head. The audience gave him a moment
to pick up the line, and this failing, " Harrk
back, Villum," came the good-natured
advice ; and hark back he did, commencing
at the beginning again. This time he was
more successful, and after the moment of
crisis in the eighth verse was passed, he
never wavered till his task was done.
"I reckon 'twas the dumplin' that did
'ee, Villum," said one of his friends, as Mr.
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62 WTTHYFORD
Iipworthy returned from the stage into
private life once more. The argument that
was about to ensue on this point was hushed
by the arrival on the platform of the
popular young lady from the post office,
who at once began to sing about a young
man who was " S-a-i-1-i-ing." This word
occurred in every other line of the song, and
at each repetition she seemed more to enjoy
its savour, opening her mouth wider, and
rolling the whites of her eyes. Dick whis-
pered to Molly that he once watched a calf
trying to eat a bath-towel ; the effect of this
innocent remark was fortunately hidden in
the applause which greeted the last of the
" S-a-i-1-i-ing."
For the last item of the programme,
Benjamin the huntsman's services had been
secured to sing, " We'll all go a-hunting
to-day."
A rousing blast of the horn made every
one start, and Benjamin, arrayed in pink,
emerged from the anteroom, with Slowboy
and Warrior coupled at his side. Such a
storm of cheers and view-halloos greeted
him that the dramatic entry was marred
to some extent by those powerful hounds
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THE VENISON DINNER 63
turning tail, and ignominiously towing him
off behind the screen again. After a few
moments, in which the merriment had
increased rather than subsided, the hounds
were induced to face the music again. The
song throughout was punctuated by con-
tinued view-halloos from the audience,
but Benjamin, undaunted, went on to the
end, with a smile wreathing his weather-
beaten features, and finally blew his way
out on the horn amid frantic applause.
When the village piano had sounded the
last note of " God Save the Bang," the
audience trooped out into the darkness.
" You wait right here," said Cyrus, " and
I will go and hurry up the carriages ; the
men were here till a moment ago, so I guess
they will want hustling."
" I would so like to come home in the
brake," said Molly ; " I feel I want a little
fresh air after this."
" Very well," said the Squire, " if you are
well wrapped up, for there will be quite
fresh air enough on the moor to-night."
" Then we can all go together, and I will
take you round to your hotel on the way,
Mr. Foster," said the good-natured Cyrus.
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64 W1THYF0RD
" Well, that's fixed ; now, where's that
loon of a coachman ?" And he bolted out
to look for him.
The Squire had moved away from the
group to talk to the deaf old lady pew-
opener who for this occasion had played
the more attractive part of programme
girl ; thus Molly and Dick were standing
alone.
" It was too mean of you to make me
laugh like that," said she, " in that sailing
song."
" But I didn't mean you to laugh like that
at all ; I was quite frightened."
" Now you are quibbling," she said.
" Am I ?" said Dick. " Well, I am not
quibbling when I tell you I had not the
slightest idea that * Coming thro' the Rye '
was such a pretty song."
Cyrus was at their elbow, there was no
time for words, but she just looked softly
at him as she turned, and then went out
to climb into the box-seat by the side of
Cyrus Potts.
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CHAPTER VII
BLACK BOOKS
" They took it up, away they went
Like furies, with a breast-high scent."
A. 0. P.
When Dick awoke the next morning, he
was conscious of having been through a
turmoil of dreams.. He distinctly remem-
bered swimming out to sea, on what he now
reflected must have been waves of mental
indigestion, while the notes of " S-a-i-1-
i-ing, s-a-i-1-i-ing," rose and fell with nause-
ating monotony. It amused him also to
recall that at some time Uncle Tom Copley
was " Coming thro' the Rye," and greeted
him affectionately.
He had carefully avoided the pitfalls of
the Metropolis wine carte, and confined
himself solely to the contents of the water-
cart, as Cyrus playfully expressed it ; so
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66 WITHYFORD
he came to the conclusion the cause was
the dumpling which had already played
such sad tricks with the brain of Mr. Lip-
worthy.
This train of thought was broken in upon
by two heavy knocks on the door, which
were followed by the rubicund visage of
Mr. Feathers.
" You'll s'excuse me, sir, for interruptin',"
be said, "but the harriers are meeting at
Black Bocks at eleven o'clock."
Mr. Feathers had had multifarious annoy-
ances that morning, which included the
discovery of the wrong saddles on all the
horses — a fact which gave him visions of
sore backs ; yet he had found time to think
of his guest's amusement, and Dick thanked
him for the attention.
Dick had his own particular views about
harriers, thinking that on a good scenting
day, at all events, the hare was rather over-
matched ; still, the Exmoor hares, he knew,
had hind-legs like a kangaroo, and used
them to run fairly straight, as a rule.
Moreover, it was the very thing to try
his horses, without giving them a hard day,
so he decided for Black Bocks at eleven.
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BLACK ROCKS 67
He chose the chestnut mare for himself,
and told his groom to come out on the
bay.
Dick was soon jogging on his way over
the heather studded with yellow gorse, and
now and again the warm honeyed breath
of the flower stole across his senses. His
eye followed the waves of heather, which
seemed to lead straight up into the sky
above him.
He was just debating within himself
whether really life had anything better to
offer than this, when he was attracted by
a white speck moving over the moor in the
distance. In an instant he descried
Molly's pony Jane, and the next moment
had mended his pace into a gentle canter.
It was surprising how that pony moved
over the rough ground, twisting in and out
the sheep-paths, and down the dry runnels,
never pausing in her swift shambling trot.
For some time Dick forbore to extend his
mare, but he found at last it was necessary,
if he was to overtake that moorland pony
with such a start.
The chestnut was distinctly blowing
when at last he did range alongside. Molly
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68 WTTHYFORD
turned her head quickly as she heard the
close footfalls of a horse.
" Good morning," she said graciously ;
and her colour just heightened slightly with
the pleasure of the greeting.
" Good morning," he said. "I am
pleased to see you, and now you can show
me the way to Black Rocks."
"Well, if that's all, yonder sign-post
would have done it as well," she replied.
" You always snub me," he laughed ;
" but what a good pony that is."
" Jane ?" she said playfully, slapping her
on the neck. " Oh, she's a dear !"
Jane seemed to understand, and the
corners of her mouth wrinkled behind the
loose snaffle-bit, and there was just a sus-
picion of a wink of the long white eyelash
over the dark brown eye, in acknowledg-
ment of the compliment.
The tips of Jane's ears, which were
thrown forward, now nearly met, the only
outward sign of excitement she showed at
the sight of hounds already at the cross-
roads.
Mr. Crawley's harriers had the reputa-
tion of being the best pack in that part of
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BLACK ROCKS 69
the country. They certainly were a very
level lot, a condition of things attained by
years of careful breeding, and still more
courageous drafting.
There was no fashionable field to wait
for. Those that meant hunting were al-
ready there — at least, that was the master's
view, and he gave the signal for a move
within five minutes of the hour.
They were going to draw the slopes of a
heather-clad hill and, given scent, there
was nothing to stop a smart moorland
gallop. As luck would have it, an isolated
cloud at this moment decided to unburden
itself of a gentle storm, and it began to rain
in the characteristic manner of the country,
with the blue sky showing on all sides.
The field were accustomed to the vagaries
of the weather, and, indeed, as Dick quoted,
"time could not wither nor custom stale
its infinite variety," so they welcomed this
on the chance of an improved scent, as
the ground was inclined to be hard and dry,
even on the moor.
Unlike the big stag-hounds, the harriers
were unable to stride over the heather, and
yet seemed too large to make their way
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70 WITHYFORD
underneath, and so their progress was a
series of jumps. Now and again they were
hidden entirely and only the tips of their
agitated sterns showed above the surface.
It was a very pretty sight to watch them
drawing. There was no sign of slackness ;
every hound was at work, and using his
nose for all it was worth.
Molly and Dick stood still on the opposite
hill and watched the busy little pack
spreading themselves out and making it
good over every inch of the ground.
Dick was inclined to think that his
mount had not previously seen anything
of hounds. Instead of that intent gaze
with which Jane followed the movements
of the pack, she had her head up, gazing
wildly at the horizon, and at intervals
showed signs of getting up on her hind-
legs to enlarge the view.
"What she wants," said Dick, "is a
sharp burst over that deep heather. There
is nothing like the heather step to knock
the breath out of them if they are not
accustomed to it. I have seen striding
thoroughbred horses from the shires burst
up in no time on this ground."
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BLACK ROCKS 71
The mare was now twisting and turning
as if she stood on hot plates.
At this moment a great hare jumped
up right in front of hounds. The pack
closed up like a fan, and in a second were
screaming like furies in their impatience to
get over the heather. Away went the hare,
his great hind-legs taking him uphill at an
extraordinary pace.
When Dick's mount heard the clamour,
she reared in earnest and pawed the air in
a maddening way. Holding on by the
mane, he waited till she had just touched the
ground again with her fore-feet, and before
she could rise a second time he drove both
spurs hard into her sides. She gave one
unseating bound into the air, and tore
after the flying pack.
It was all sound going, so he just sat
down with a grin on his face and let her
"rip," as he expressed it. There was
no doubt she could gallop, but after her
first burst of enthusiasm she soon dis-
covered that strong heather was not suited
to her daisy-skimming action ; then began
a series of exaggerated jumps. As the growth
became thicker, after half a mile of this,
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72 W1THYF0RD
she was lathering freely. Then came the in-
evitable collapse into a trot. Dick meant
to get to the top to see what hounds were
doing the other side, so he pushed her along,
and a very sorry-looking animal it was that
joined the others at the first check.
" Doesn't look much like doing any un-
necessary gymnastics now," said Dick.
The sapient Jane had scarcely turned a
hair. The tips of her ears were perhaps
curled a little closer together in front as
she watched hounds, now puzzling out the
line.
As the orderly little field stood still, the
hunted hare came lolloping along slowly
with a limping gait right across their front.
She knew quite well that the conundrum
she had presented to the pack was not yet
solved ; she was listening to hear the
clamour of the solution, but, meanwhile,
there was no hurry. Cousin Reynard would
have informed her that he " always kep'
on gwy'in' in these circumstances."
The master, however, had no idea of
taking advantage of her failings. He
merely remarked, " Keep quiet ; let them
hunt ;" and hunt they did.
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BIACKROCKS 73
At last a chorus proclaimed they had
recovered the scent which had been lost on
the stony ground. No doubt Puss had
now heard the music, and mended her
pace, for hounds swept by, busy as bees.
There was another sharp burst over the
moor, and then the line took hounds across
the road into a wide field of dry stubblq.
There they threw up again. In vain they
cast themselves and tried in all directions ;
scent would not lie on the dry ground.
The master witnessed their patient efforts
for some time, and at last decided to lift
them forward to a field of roots. This they
drew from end to end, but there was no
sign of the hunted hare.
The pack was once more taken back to
where the line crossed the road, but they
could make nothing of it. Then the master
got his hounds together and started off to
draw elsewhere, solacing himself with the
reflection that such a cunning old hare
would give him sport on another day.
Dick was very well satisfied with his
morning's work, which he concluded had
done the chestnut a great deal of good.
After her first little display of exuberance
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74 WITHYFORD
of spirit, she had really settled down very
well, and as far as the bay horse was con-
cerned he had no fault to find whatever,
unless it was that he was a bit slow.
They had both done a good deal of
galloping, and as they were a good many
miles from Withyford, he decided to make
a move for home.
Molly thought she had had enough, too,
so they started together, with the groom
on the bay, a respectful distance in the rear.
" I am as hungry as a hunter," said
Molly.
" So am I," said he, " and I vote we
draw a farm-house for refreshments. The
worst is I never know whether to offer to
pay or not. If there is a child about, it is
simple. You just admire her curls, and give
her something to put in her money-box."
" But if she hasn't got any curls ?" said
the matter-of-fact Molly.
" Well, there is always the money-box,"
said Dick.
" You are sure to find one with curls in
this farm-house," said Molly. " There are
thirteen, to my knowledge."
" What, curls ?"
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BLACK ROCKS 75
" No, children," she continued.
" What a jolly little house !" said Dick,
dismounting and giving the reins to a small
boy who appeared at the moment ; and then
he moved forward to help Molly alight.
Having hastily slipped her feet out of the
elastic loops of her habit, and clearing the
stirrup, she presented a stiff bent elbow
towards him, which he held, and then,
leaning her weight on the arm, she slipped
neatly to the ground.
The dame of the farm now came out to
welcome them.
" Good morning, Mrs. Muggeridge," said
Molly. " We are very hungry, and won-
dered if you would be good enough to give
us something to eat. 9 '
" You be pleased to step inside, miss,"
she said. " Shall I bring 'ee some bread
I have just made, miss ? or some cake and
milk ? and would the gentleman be pleased
to have some c-i-d-e-r ?"
Molly thought some cake and cider
would be very nice indeed.
" What delicious cake !" said Dick, as he
began on a piece of light crumbling bread-
cake.
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76 WTTHYFORD
" Fum think so, air," she said. " Well,
my bies dew say as I stands tew far off,
sir, when I goes to make un, and throws the
currants at un."
" Not a bit of it," said Dick. " This is
real bread-cake, and I have never tasted
better."
Mrs. Muggeridge smoothed her apron in
gratification.
Dick was silent about the cider. He
found it distinctly rough. Molly, who was
watching, thought she saw his mouth twist
under the acidity, like an early symptom
of paralysis ; then she changed her mind,
and drank milk.
After their impromptu meal they both
owned to feeling considerably better, and
the children who had gathered in the door-
way received the full measure of their grati-
tude. Effusive thanks, too, were offered
to Mrs. Muggeridge, who continued to
stroke her apron until they were once
more on their horses.
Dick thought the remaining miles had
passed only too quickly when he parted
from Molly at the gates of the Dower
House.
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CHAPTER Vm
WATER ACRE FARM
" Near a dark, deep pool of water, as still as still can
be,
By the ' geatway ' in the ' bushment ' stands a
rowan-berry tree.
And it's, oh, I'm fondly dreaming that it's there
they'll bury me,
Where the evening shadows hover on the meadows
by the sea."
A. 0. P.
When Molly looked at the stable clock as
she entered the yard, it pointed to a quarter
to four, the most comfortable hour, she
reflected, to arrive home after a short day
with hounds. She promptly changed her
stiff habit for a loose soft gown, and then
sat down to an early and very cosy tea.
She rather prided herself on the daintiness
of her teas. The tea itself was not strong
Indian of the Is. 4d. a pound order, so
affected by thrifty millionaires, but really
delicate China tea, and its grateful frag*
77
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78 WTTHYPORD
ranee seemed to mingle with that of the
pot-pourri in the old willow pattern bowk.
She had sunk down into the yielding
softness of the most comfortable of padded
chairs, and was sipping her tea and musing
on the events of the day.
Her fox terrier Bobbie had learnt of his
mistress's return, and, following her into
the room, was now asleep stretched out
on the soft sheepskin rug at her feet. All
day long he had been engaged with the old
badger who lived in a sandy earth up in
the wood.
They were very well acquainted with each
other, these two, and when time hung
heavily on his hands Bobbie knew there
was always excitement to be had for the
asking up in the wood. There were un-
mistakable marks on him of a good deal of
excitement to-day. The fact was Mr.
Brock, after a heavy meal of young rabbits,
was settling down into his beauty-sleep,
when the door of his sleeping-chamber was
darkened by the eager "face of his foe. An
insulting bark of triumph roused him
thoroughly, and he made a rush at the
intruder's foot. Bobbie tucked it away,
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WATER ACRE FARM 79
and pinned him across the nose, but Mr.
Brock was very strong, and bored in and
bit Bobbie's shoulder ; then he dashed into
a narrow tunnel where his assailant couldn't
quite reach him.
Bobbie tore at the opening, and Mr.
Brock dug with equal frenzy in the opposite
direction. With his powerful forearms he
piled up a barrier of sand even quicker
than the pursuer could demolish it, and so
the race went on most of the day, but
Bobbie failed altogether to reduce the
distance between them, as he had fre-
quently to pay visits to the surface for air,
which his antagonist seemed to altogether
dispense with.
However, Bobbie had made a dreadful
mess of the sleeping-chamber, which, to
Mr. Brock's well-known orderly habits,
must have been quite as offensive as his
compulsory efforts towards the antipodes.
The day's exertions had quite exhausted
Bobbie, who, heedless of the possibilities
of tea, had fallen fast asleep on the rug.
He was evidently dreaming now, and by
his eager little yaps was possibly running
Mr. Brock from scent to view. There were
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80 WTTHYFORD
signs that he was still revelling in the
chase when his young friend the kitten
found the dreamer, and heartlessly jumped
on his face.
Molly was intensely amused at the
ludicrous astonishment of his awakening.
He gazed in stupefaction for one instant,
and then chased the kitten out of the room.
She was still enjoying the episode when the
maid announced Mr. Potts.
Molly inclined her head and added :
" Tell Mr. Farquharson tea is ready," and
she proceeded with a new brew.
" Now," said Cyrus, " it is just luck to
find you, Miss Molly. We never get any
talk, do we ?"
" Well, father is coming, so you will get
plenty directly," said Molly, with the ghost
of a smile.
Cyrus was about to reply when the Squire
entered with what was for him a most
effusive welcome. The conversation be-
came general now, and Molly gradually
withdrew from it, and then, seeing her
opportunity, finally decamped, leaving the
two men talking together.
After waiting for some time Cyrus made
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WATER ACRE FARM 81
up his mind she was not going to return just
yet, and he finally took his departure.
When the coast was clear, Molly inno-
cently appeared again, and began to re-
arrange the flowers. Her cousin, Margaret
Meadows, was coming on a visit for a few
days, and was expected to arrive before
dinner. Margaret was much older than
Molly. She had once been called Daisy,
but had outlived that stage. She didn't
ride, but was devoted to fishing. Now, a
brilliant idea struck Molly for her guest's
entertainment : they would have a fishing
picnic on the morrow ; so she sat down and
wrote her first letter to Dick on the subject.
She proposed starting after breakfast and
driving to a point some miles up the river,
taking lunch, and then fishing their way
down to old Water Acre Farm, where they
could get tea, and driving home from there.
Dick sent a note back by the bearer to
say he would be delighted to come, and
that he had bought a licence and borrowed
a rod.
The morning was a lovely one, but not
for fishing. The sun was gathering strength
in a blue sky, unflecked by a cloud, when
6
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82 WITHYFORD
Dick arrived at the Dower House. He
unfortunately remarked, " What an ideal
day !" and Miss Meadows, who took her
fishing seriously, looked suspiciously at
him at once. Her worst fears were to be
confirmed later. Meanwhile, they all took
their seats in the dog-cart.
" We had a good storm the night before
last, and there is much more water in the
river," said Molly, for the sake of comfort-
ing her cousin.
Miss Meadows was deep in reflection
about flies, as to which was likely to be
most killing for these very sophisticated
trout.
Dick produced a " red palmer,' ' and said :
" I am going to lead off with this one."
Molly greeted the appearance of the
woolly monstrosity with a peal of laughter.
" Where did you get it from ?" she said.
" Look, Margaret !" and she held it up to
derision.
" We are not fishing for chub," said Miss
Meadows severely.
" I am," said Dick provokingly, " and I
think I ought to practise a few casts now
as we drive along."
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WATER ACRE FARM 83
" What nonsense !" said Molly. " There
are no chub, and how can you cast from a
dog-cart ? You would just get the hook
into one of us."
Dick looked innocent and injured; but
there was just the shadow of a twinkle in
his eye when he saw Miss Meadows's appre-
hension, which made Molly suspect that
he was pulling the leg of the enthusiast.
When the cart arrived at their starting-
point, Miss Meadows was appeased by the
appearance of a nice open stretch of water
with low banks, where, as Dick said, you
could throw a fly without either wading or
decorating the bushes behind with your
best specimens.
Meanwhile, Miss Meadows was wetting a
cast, preparing for business. Molly thought
she might give her a hint as to the size of
the trout, so she remarked : " I am afraid
they run rather small here."
" That is a fact," said Dick, " and the
smaller they run, the nicer they fry."
Miss Meadows ignored the levity of this
remark, and was making a cast or two just
to get the line out ; then, choosing a place
where the current raced round the edge of a
6—2
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84 WITHYFORD
pool, she skilfully shot the line straight out,
and the tiny fly fell first, and touched the
water at the very spot. The current
swirled it into the eddy round the pool,
then it was quickly withdrawn and shot out
again. This time as it touched the water
there wasa rush, and the quick gleam of
silver sides. The rod bent to the taut line.
"He has it! Who-oop !" said Dick,
and clambered to the rescue with a landing-
net. He didn't jab at the fish and break
the cast, as she feared he would, but held
the net quite still under water, then raised
it as she drew the fish over.
Molly watched this, and became more
certain than ever that he did know some-
thing, and had been playing with them ;
but Dick was very discreet, and confined
his operations solely to the use of the
landing-net.
They kept him well employed, too, with
fish averaging half a pound ; and this was
considered quite a respectable weight for
these rivers.
They were some time before they could
make up their minds to leave this open
reach; but at last they were convinced
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WATER ACRE FARM 85
there was nothing more to be had, and
Dick said he had got the lunch ready.
Lunch was spread out on a conveniently
flat rock that ran out into the stream.
Dick said he had chosen the site owing to
its natural facilities in the way of washing
up, but as there were no plates, this remark
was held to be purely facetious.
"Well, it is not a picnic if you have
got everything you want," said Molly,
biting contentedly at a sandwich.
"They will never believe at home that
I caught all these fish," said Margaret.
" No," said Dick ; " we have much un-
belief to contend with. It has been said
that the fisherman goeth forth in the
morning, then cometh again at night, with
an empty flask, and the truth is not in him."
Molly choked, and ginger-beer had to be
administered. A diversion was created by
a kingfisher, that flew like a blue streak
down the vista of the river, and then dipped
into the water for a small fry which
glistened for an instant in his bill as the
bird went out of sight.
" I love those birds," said Molly ; 4 they
are so original."
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86 WITHYFORD
They might have lingered on talking,
enjoying the cool air, and watching the
eddies that raced round the projecting
rock, but Miss Meadows was not to be
balked of her prey. She searched every
nook and corner with her fly, but all in
vain. Time after time she changed the
fly, but they were all treated with the same
masterful inactivity by the trout, and at
last she gave in.
" It is no good," said Molly. " They are
off their feed, and we had better stop and
make our way down to Water Acre Farm."
Unlike most of the farm-houses, Water
Acre stood high on a hill, with glorious
views of the valley and the river below.
In the old house lived two maiden sisters
and their younger brother Garge.
Molly considered it quite a show farm-
house, it was so picturesque. The walls
were of great thickness, and the rooms
were quiet and cool. A grateful coolness
met them on the very threshold of entering ;
and after the hot walk along the rocky
river-path the contrast was refreshing in
the extreme.
The rooms differed from Mrs. Mug-
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WATER ACRE FARM 87
geridge's in the maidenly neatness of their
arrangement. Here no marauding hand
in search of the sugar-basin made havoc
with the crockery, which was arranged all
round the rooms with great precision.
China spaniels with speckled noses stared
with expressions of insane hilarity from the
mantelpiece. The oak tables and chairs had
never been stained, but were polished with
plain beeswax, which showed all the grain of
the wood, and made them shine like glass.
A most attractive tea, with home-made
bread and honey, was soon spread on the
plain oaken table, and the toil of the walk
was forgotten in the glories of fresh water-
cress, which Garge had just brought in.
Garge looked like a " property " rustic of
the pantomime, and his shock of red hair
suggested the Japanese chrysanthemum.
After tea the elder sister escorted the
party up into the attics, from which point
a splendid view of the long winding river
was to be seen.
Dick's attention was attracted by a
soldier's red tunic hanging behind the door,
and, turning to their guide, he suggested
they were harbouring a deserter.
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88 WITHYFOKD
" No, sir, I bain't ; it be Garge V
Apparently the sight of this garment
hanging in some shop had inspired Garge
with military ardour, and in this red tunic,
with the happy addition of corduroy
trousers, he had suddenly appeared at the
farm.
" And when un sister seed un, her'n
run, and her'n scra-a-med, and said/ Garge,
Garge ! you never be 'listed !' But he'd
done un just to decave us, sir," she added.
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CHAPTER IX
" A FEW WORDS TO THE FIELD "
" Over the grass they fairly flew,
They're racing now from scent to view."
A. 0. F.
The days of Dick's holiday were racing by,
as days will when every moment is filled
with a variety of congenial occupations.
There is no time for much misgiving about
the future, or sad reflections over the
" might-have-beens," when each day is
mapped out ahead with an engrossing pro-
gramme of sport. All three of his horses
were as fit now as himself, and the longest
day seemed never too hard for either horse
or rider. Ten hours in the saddle only made
him hungry for his dinner when he did
get it, and comfortably sleepy afterwards.
There were moments when he thought of
the City, and the uncongenial white faces
awaiting him there ; but he at once thrust
the vision out of his thoughts.
89
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90 WITHYFORD
On this particular morning he had had
to get up very early indeed ; he was hunting
with the stag-hounds, and the meet was
on the far side of the forest. There had
been reports from farmers that an old stag
and three or four hinds were in some small
covers on the very outskirts of the moor,
and were doing more than usual damage
by raids on the cultivated lands.
It was probably the stag that was doing
most of the mischief, for in his lordliness
he will only condescend to one bite from
each turnip, whereas the thrifty old hind
will eat it all, or nearly all.
The master decided to go and hunt this
old stag. There were great sporting chances
in the day, because if he were found he
would run over the entire breadth of the
forest, consisting of miles and miles of
coarse grass, before he could reach his home
in the woods. Scent lies well, as a rule,
on the forest, and hounds would be racing at
his heels the whole distance.
On the other hand, the covers were small,
and the stag (a very wary gentleman)
might be disturbed and move before hounds
came; and, this being an isolated cover,
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"A FEW WORDS TO THE FIELD" 91
the result would be a disastrous retreat of
hounds, huntsman, and field across the
desert home again.
When Dick looked out very early to take
counsel of the weather, he was greeted with
streams of rain from a leaden sky, and the
meet was just sixteen miles from Withy-
ford. He hesitated for a second, then
decided he had known mornings just like
this turn out quite fine by eleven o'clock,
and the stag would be sure to take him
home ; and he pictured that gallop over the
forest grass, with a flying pack screaming
in front of him on a burning scent. The
vision was too enticing, and he rang wildly
for his bath and boots.
Others had not apparently taken quite
such a rosy view of affairs, and it was a
very attenuated following that actually
started, though many had intended to do
so on the previous day.
There was something ominous in Ben-
jamin's and the whip's mackintoshed
figures. These garments were never donned
unless under the firm conviction of a soaker,
of which few people had had more lasting
experiences than Benjamin. Consequently,
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92 WTTHYFORD
when Dick saw the mackintoshes his hopes
as to weather distinctly fell.
Mile after mile of that long moorland
road was passed ; horses had dropped into
a mechanical trot, a sort of go-easy attitude
in which the old hunter gets over the road-
work with the least exertion to himself and
rider. On the high ground the weather
seemed worse, and the atmosphere thick
with wet ; all around the desolation was
intense, no human being or any sign of life
save the huddled form of some wild pony,
and the thin bleat of a horned sheep pene-
trating the folds of the mist.
Matters improved a little as they got off
the moor, and a slight breeze blew away
the fog and cleared the air, but the rain
continued relentlessly.
It was on the stroke of eleven when Ben-
jamin got to the cross-roads. A few riders
who had been cowering under the shelter
of a hedge now emerged, but after some
minutes more of them began to arrive
by twos and threes, until their numbers
amounted to quite a respectable field. Ten
minutes 9 more grace was given, as it was a
far meet. Dick scanned the field for a sight
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"A FEW£WORDS TO THE FIELD" 93
of Molly, who was to have ridden her
father's hunter, but as time went on and
she did not arrive, he rightly conjectured
the Squire had raised objections to the dis-
tance for her on such a morning.
There was a stir among the little crowd
now, for Benjamin was changing his tufting
pony for a hunter. As the cover was small
and there were known to be only a few deer,
the master had decided to draw with the
whole pack.
Hounds and horses moved briskly enough
now, and seemed to have forgotten the dis-
comforts of their long journey. The cover
consisted of two sides of a valley, with a
stream running a mill-race at the bottom.
The stag would be sure to break on the
forest side, and Dick thought it would be
well to cross that stream with a due
caution rather than in the scrambling ex-
citement of the find ; so when they arrived
alongside the ford, he walked his horse
slowly into the river. The waters surged
deeper and deeper, swollen by the heavy
rains, till they came up to his boots, and
then over the top of them ; he felt his
horse's body heave for one moment, as if
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94 WITHYFORD
lifted by the waters ; the next instant he
had regained his feet, and was scrambling
out the other side.
Hounds were giving tongue as he
mounted the opposite hill, and he was just
in time to see a hind break cover. The
whip moved like a flash, and stopped the
leading hound ; then the horn sounded
down below, and the hounds turned back
again into cover. This was repeated again
with another hind, but there was no sign
of the promised stag. Some farmer, in his
amateur efforts of harbouring, had evi-
dently made him suspicious, and, instead
of going back to lie in cover, he had moved
on in the morning.
There was no other cover to draw ;
matters were looking serious, and the rain
had redoubled its efforts. The master was
talking low to the huntsman. " Benja-
min," he said, " I am going home now ;
you had better run a hind for a little, and
lose her down the water ; then you must
just say a few words to the field, and take
hounds home."
Benjamin once more took his pack into
cover, and in a few moments they were
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"A FEW WORDS TO THE FIELD " 95
running a line down at the bottom. Dick
kept along the top till hounds had run the
length of the wood, when they swung up
towards him over the hill. He now began
to suspect, but was quite game for a gallop ;
they raced over the grass at a pace that
made Benjamin nervous for the safety of
that hind, and he made up his mind to lose
her at the first chance. The rain came
down with the force of bullets into the faces
of the riders, and horses pulled madly at the
slippery, sodden reins.
The ground was quite sound going, and
it was a mad gallop while it lasted. Soon
a belt of thick bracken checked hounds,
and enabled the huntsman to get on terms
with them ; but they soon hit it off again,
and took the line slanting down to a little
plantation with a stream running through
it ; here they paused for a second, and
Benjamin saw his chance. He blew them
together in a twinkling, and cast them up-
stream ; up he went, working both sides of
the banks, till he was sure he had quite
lost that deer.
Then there were still those few " words "
to say to the field which had been heavy on
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96 WITHYFORD
his conscience the whole time ; at last he
summoned courage, and turned round and
faced them.
" Gentlemen," said he, " 'tis a mucky
day ; we've lost our stag, and we'd better
go home."
Dick had noticed the line slanted to the
river down-stream, and when Benjamin
proceeded hastily to cast up-stream, the
whole manoeuvre was plain to him ; he
said nothing, only grinned to himself, and
wondered how many had noticed it.
Benjamin, with an expression of mourn-
fulness, was about to put the horn to his
lips and blow his hounds together, when a
sight of Rallywood working his way to-
wards a thick patch of bramble caused him
to pause in the act and watch the old hound.
An impatient whimper from the veteran as
he scrambled through the briars electrified
the small field ; then came the deep roar
of triumph as he got a view, and a truly
warrantable stag leapt up in front of hounds.
" H-i-i-i-c-k ! Forrard !" shouted Ben-
jamin in his glee ; and, catching his horse
short by the head, he set him going after
the pack.
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"A FEW WORDS TO THE FIELD" 97
The stag faced straight across the forest,
and his long, easy stride soon bore him
away from hounds.
A moment ago they were roaring on his
heels ; now the music had died down to a
whimper, for the pace left no breath to
spare as they raced on his line with deadly
swiftness.
The forest lay before them, with nothing
to stop hounds or horses for miles. The
stag was now seen breasting the opposite
hill, a brown patch moving quickly, and
hard to distinguish against the colouring of
the dried grass. The great danger was that
he should wind either of the hinds which had
preceded him on almost the same line he
was taking. This he would no doubt have
done, but hounds left him no time to look
about ; even now they gained on him going
up the hill.
The pace was telling, too, on the horses,
which had long since ceased to pull. Dick
felt his mare was still going strong, but the
neck lathered under the wet reins, in spite
of her hard condition, and the veins stood
out in knots. Would there come a check to
give horses a moment to catch their breath ?
7
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98 W1THYF0RD
The stag knew there was no rest for him
till he reached the Warner Woods, and for
that haven he made straight as a crow.
He had had no time to get his second
wind, for hounds, since the find, had been
running him almost in sight, and his fat
condition began to tell.
Once a sheep-dog had chivvied him
slightly out of his course, and so pressing
were hounds that this insult went un-
avenged, but the pack checked for an
instant where the dog had chased and so
foiled the scent.
Dick took a pull at the mare, but it was
only for a moment. As hounds came to
their noses they feathered and spread out,
then flung together and drove away hard
on the line again. Dick was conscious of
Benjamin's voice for the first time.
" Forard — forard on — forard." Then he
saw the tops of the trees of the dense Warner
Woods were in sight. Would he do it ?
Once inside, he was safe, for they were
full of deer. Dick was conscious at this
moment that he was flying through space ;
then the grass which he had so long watched
racing under him suddenly rose up and
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"A FEW WORDS TO THE FIELD " 99
struck him a blow that knocked his hat
over his eyes, and drove out the scant
store of breath from his body. The mare
had dropped her fore-legs into a con-
cealed grip and pitched on her head and
rolled over. It was a second before he
could think what had happened ; then he
straightened out the good hat that had
probably saved his neck, and became aware
that Benjamin was impatiently holding
his horse and telling him to get on.
" I am all right," said Dick with a grin,
as he scrambled into the saddle.
" I thought, sir, you be dying in the last
ditch," said Benjamin.
" Will he do it ?" said Dick.
" I can't rightly say, sir, till I gets a
better view of un, but yew can never
tell," and the wind took the rest of the
sentence as he turned to gallop in earnest
once more.
The woods looked quite close now in the
clear air, though probably two miles dis-
tant. When the stag once more came in
view, it was seen that he was reeling in his
stride, and hounds had gained. Still, he
had not far to go, and the chance of there
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100 WITHYFORD
being outlying deer near the woods was
considerable.
By adroitly running the inside of a bend
Benjamin got on better terms with his
hounds, and cheered them on. They were
running now practically from scent to
view, and fairly coursed their stag over the
grass. As the leading hounds snapped at
his haunches he turned and sent them flying
with his fore-feet, but the pause was fatal,
for hounds made a dash at him, and, getting
him by the ears, fairly pulled him down in
the open. Benjamin was off his horse in an
instant, and, charging into the melee, he
skilfully administered the coup de grdce.
The attenuated field now consisted of
three. One was Dick, who held the hunts-
man's horse, the other was trotting some
hundred yards behind, and the last member
was coming in at a walk.
The rites having been performed, Ben-
jamin left the stag in charge of a neighbour-
ing farmer and started slowly for home.
As Dick was the only rider, and there
was no question of splashing hounds' faces
riding on the grass roads, he ranged up
alongside of the huntsman to talk. Ben-
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" A FEW WORDS TO THE FIELD " 101
jamin, as usual, was most entertaining,
and proceeded with a long serious story
about a dream he had had the night before
the opening meet, the day above all others
on which he most desired a good run for
the field and a kill at the finish.
On this particular occasion he had, per-
haps, gone to bed too early after supper the
night before. " I had a wunnerful drem,
sir," he said. " I went right through the
run, I did, till we come to a check ; then I
said to master, I said, ' Our stag be behind
us, sir ; ' and he said, * Benjamin, you go for
to do what you think right.' I took hounds
back up the w-a-a-ter, and they fresh found
un at once. I dremmed all that. Sure
enough, when we come to the run the next
marnin' we checked where I dremmed. I
knew what to say. I said, * Master, our stag
be behind us, sir. 5 He said to me, ' You go
for to do what you think right, 5 and them's
was the words of my drem. I took hounds
back, and found un and killed un with half
an hour's run on the mure. When I got
home that night I tells Mrs. Benjamin what
I dremmed, and she says to me, she says,
' You get on ! you and your drems !' "
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CHAPTER X
WITHYFORD SHOW
" ' An eye ' like a woman's — bright, gentle, and brown,
Loins and a back that would carry a house,
And quarters to lift him smack over a town."
Whyte-Melvdlle.
The next morning broke with a cloudless
sky and a hot sun. With the genial
warmth of it shining into his breakfast-
room, Dick found it difficult to recon-
cile the morning's surroundings with the
climate of the previous day. Something
of the difficulty occurred to him which he
always felt in associating the benign, placid
cat of the morning with the raging demon
that had shattered his beauty-sleep in the
night. The wind had suddenly gone to
what the farmers called " up - along " —
that is, up along the coast — a northerly
wind which in the autumn invariably
meant fine weather.
102
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WITHYFORD SHOW 103
It was lucky that the change had come,
it being the day of the Withyford Horse
Show — a day set apart for buying horse,
talking horse, and thinking horse, till night
closed the proceedings.
So many people, directly or indirectly,
were afforded a livelihood by the fascinating
animal, others depended on it for their
amusement, and all were interested, or
understood something of the subject. No
wonder, then, thecountry-side was roused ;
and even at this early hour men, ponies,
horses, and foals were pouring into Withy-
ford by every tortuous lane that led
there.
Dick lingered over his breakfast, knowing
it was the only meal he was likely to enjoy in
comfort at the inn for that day. Already the
entrance was blocked by broad-shouldered
farmers so that it was as difficult to get by
and still harder to push through.
Mr. Feathers's beer barrels were charged
for the occasion, and although cider was
considered the wine of the country, on
gala occasions of this kind the demand was
for beer. Beer was being drawn, jostled
for, drunk, and spilt, till the reek of it per-
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104 WITHYFORD
vaded the house, andJDick decided to take
his pipe and sit on the bridge outside.
From this coign of vantage he could
watch the horses come in on their way
up the hill to the show-field. They were
chiefly of the local type of horse — cobby,
and short* on the leg, but with wonderful
stamina and hardy constitutions inherited
from the moorland pony blood.
Huge farmers came in, riding ponies from
the moor that had been scarcely handled
at all — ponies of thirteen hands, carrying as
many stones' weight in the bulky form of
the rider. Their spirits seemed only con-
trolled by the weight of their burden, for
with heads and tails up they neighed to
each other in a way that suggested decided
playfulness under easier circumstances.
" Now, sir," said a farmer, addressing
Dick, " if yew want a nice pony, yew can
have this un for twelve pound. He is
six year old, and has never done no work.
No, sir, I won't get off ; 'tis the weight that
keeps him down like, but yew can do
anything with un if yew's gentle. If yew
was to hit un, he don't care whether he
lives or he dies."
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WITHYFORD SHOW 105
Dick intimated that he did not require
the services of such an accommodating
pony at the moment ; so the farmer, sway-
ing to keep his balance, and with his feet
nearly touching the ground, passed on in
the procession up to the white-tented ring
on the hill. ,.*
At this moment a note arrived from Mr.
Potts, saying that Mr. Farquharson and
Molly were lunching on his brake at the
show, and he hoped Dick would join the
party.
This was a most fortunate arrangement,
as Mr. Feathers had just intimated, when
Dick asked about lunch, that every plate
and knife and glass that he could raise
had gone up to the common luncheon tent.
To add to the pandemonium of noise
in this all-peaceful village, a gipsy fair had
settled down, and was in full swing. The
centre of attraction was a very uncertain
roundabout, which gyrated slowly, with a
swaying movement, round a man playing
a barrel-organ. The penetrating voice of
La Gitana seeking victims for her rifle-
gallery was tempered by the incessant
blows of the strong man with the mallet,
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106 WITHYFORD
and the rattle of the recording disk as it
flew up the indicator.
Dick was not sorry to get through into
the comparative quiet of a by-lane, by
which route he could reach the horse show.
Here, again, was a considerable crowd of
led horses, neighing and kicking, and foals
running loose, and groups of excited farmers,
all trying to talk at once.
Dick made his way to the enclosure, the
narrow entrance of which was guarded by
the neat figure of Leman, the whip, in new
pink.
The show had not officially commenced
yet, so Dick took a stroll into the ring to
have a look at the jumps.
There was the usual water-jump, which
he knew they would all ride at with arms
and heels going, and fidget the horse out
of his stride, in their efforts to get the pace
on. There were also in and out hurdles,
and hurdles with thick gorse, but the
chief feature was a huge bank. This really
was a formidable obstacle. A straight wall
of earth over four feet high, and about as
broad as a billiard-table. It was too broad
for flying, and the proper way to negotiate
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WITHYFORD SHOW 107
it was for the horse to change his feet on
top, and this was exactly the type of
jump met with when hunting the enclosed
country in the winter.
As Dick had finished inspecting the
jumps, his eye fell on Cyrus's brake and
high-stepping horses, which were moving
over the grass in fine style. Sitting on the
box by his side was Molly, as Dick thought,
looking simply bewitching. She waved her
hand to him as they pulled up alongside
the rails.
After the usual greetings from the party,
Molly said :
"Father wouldn't let me come yester-
day. He said it was too far in such
weather."
" I nearly didn't go for the same reason,'*
said Dick.
" What did you do ?" said Cyrus.
" We had the run of a lifetime, and killed
on the forest," said Dick.
44 Well, that's my luck," said Cyrus.
44 Well, never mind," he went on cheerily ;
44 luncheon is ready now, and, like the lazy
cat, I guess I'm best at chasing bowls of
milk."
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108 WTTHYFORD
With that he commenced to carve the
nearest chicken.
"Now, Miss Farquharson, may I give
you some of this ?"
" Thank you," she said.
" Brown or white ?" said Cyrus.
Molly looked confused.
" Leg or wing ?" muttered Dick, who
was holding her plate.
" Wing," she said, " if you please."
"Please, Mr. Farquharson, I'll trouble
you for some of that ham," said Cyrus.
" It's peach-fed," he went on ; "I know
all about hams."
" What a waste of peaches !" said Molly.
Conversation was here interrupted by a
loud explosion. The butler had been strug-
gling for some moments with the cham-
pagne bottle, and the obdurate cork had
taken him unawares.
" Now," said Cyrus, " when your glasses
are filled, I want you to drink success to
my grey mare."
" Are you showing her ?" said Molly.
" Indeed I am," he replied, " and I want
you to wish me luck."
A quick note on the horn called their
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WITHYFORD SHOW 109
attention to the fact that Benjamin, on
foot and arrayed in spotless pink, was
parading the entire kennel round the ring.
It was indeed a pretty sight to see these big
hounds, drafted owing to their size, from
all the best packs in England, and every
hound over twenty-five inches from the
shoulder.
" They look big," said Cyrus, " when you
are not mounted yourself."
" Yes ; and I had no idea Benjamin was so
small," said Molly.
The show classes now were chiefly for
cart-horses and brood-mares with foals
afoot, not a very exciting entry ; and so
the party broke up, and strolled round the
enclosure to look for friends. After this
came the ponies, a much more taking lot ;
and, indeed, dealers from all parts of the
country had made their way to this little
village show to buy the best pony mares,
and some of these gentlemen were talking
with a German accent.
There were several classes, all equally
good, and the task before the judges in
picking the best was not by any means an
easy one.
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110 WITHYPORD
At last the long list of pony awards was
disposed of. Then came an open class for
horses, and Cyrus was seen to be mounted
on the beautiful grey mare. That he was
not to have it all his own way became ap-
parent from the start. There were no less
than twenty in the ring, one or two of which
ran him very close, and these had the advan-
tage of riders who knew how to show them.
There was a horse-breeding farmer on a
chestnut, and a dealer showing a dark bay
with a tan muzzle, a colour very common in
this country, and said to signify descent
from the true Exmoor pony.
It was evident that Cyrus had got the
grey too short by the head, and she was
fidgeting under a rather sharp bit, and so
would not settle down to her paces. These
three horses were stopped by the judges as
they passed, and the remaining seventeen
were sent round twice more to see if there
were any others requiring special considera-
tion. Then these were halted in a line at
the back of the three chosen first, and the
judges went patiently through them all.
44 It lies between those three," said
Molly, 44 1 am sure."
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WITHYFORD SHOW 111
" You are right," said Dick ; " and I
think I could find the winner, if he would
only let her head go."
" I know," said she. " Poor dear ! he
has no hands, but I do hope he will win."
The three were now sent round the ring
one by one, and told to gallop.
At the gallop it was at once apparent
that the bay moved clumsily, and his action
was not quite true.
The chestnut's weak point was behind
the saddle, but he galloped all right.
Then came the grey. She moved at the
trot sideways, and then, when asked to
gallop, she was inclined to break away,
and when Cyrus tried to pull her round,
got her head on one side and moved awk-
wardly.
" It is the chestnut on that performance,"
said Dick ; and when the judge moved
towards the horse in question, they thought
it was certain. But no, he was not satisfied,
and was going to ride them each in turn
himself.
The chestnut was certainly a very nice
horse to gallop, but scarcely up to much
weight.
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112 WITHYFORD
The bay, when extended, moved no better
than before.
Then eame the grey. Dick was delighted
to see the judge let the curb chain out a
link or two before he mounted. He walked
her quietly for half the way ; then, as he
trotted, she dropped her nose into her chest,
and picked up her feet like a lady.
" That's the style !" said Dick. When he
called upon her to gallop, she shot into her
pace on the instant, and pulled up in a yard.
" That's done it," said Dick.
When the judge dismounted, he gave one
formal look at the other two, and then
handed Cyrus the dark blue ribbon.
There were shouts of applause from the
critical spectators, who had been watching
the contest with the closest attention ; and
hand-clapping burst out all round the ring.
Unfortunately, Cyrus had got to ride
round the ring in this tumult. Once it
looked as if the mare was going to jump the
rails, and the crowd opened out in a panic,
but he stopped her in time, and got her out
into the yard.
" Let's go round and congratulate him,"
said Dick.
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WITHYFORD SHOW 113
44 Do let's," said Molly in her excitement ;
and they accordingly made their way out of
the enclosure.
The jumping class had now formed up,
and consisted chiefly of old and tried per-
formers. There were one or two young
farmers mounted on 44 four-year-olds,"
which were calculated to afford some
amusement when it came to jumping.
The first performer was one of these, and
the rider had to undergo considerable chaff
from his friends at the ring-side.
44 'Tis wunnerful hard fallin', Jim," said
one.
44 1 bain't afeard," was the answer.
The young horse took the first hurdle
with a lightheartedness which argued well
for his chances ; but when he came to the
44 in and out," he jumped in, but had a
vague idea of getting out again, and, in
spite of his rider's efforts, there he stopped
and refused to budge, amid roars of
laughter.
44 'Tain't fust time he has been in the
pound, y'um reckon," shouted a yokel, and
at this brilliant sally there was more
laughter. At last the horse ignominiously
8
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114 WTTHYFORD
charged a hurdle and knocked it down.
In spite of vigorous handling at the water,
he only landed into the middle of it in
company with the rider's hat, and so the
fun went on until the prize was taken, as
is usually the case, by an old horse who was
accustomed to the ring and to jumping in
public.
When Dick got back to the inn after
the prize-giving, he found it blocked with
farmers, and heavy with the odour of beer ;
vigorous efforts on the bell-rope at last pro-
duced a maid, and eventually the scrappiest
of cold dinners. In despair, he decided to
go to bed. Flaring naphtha lamps from
the village threw flickering shadows on his
window ; he was conscious of the thin
metallic notes of Gitana, mercifully softened
by distance, and, with the comforting
thought she would be gone to-morrow, he
fell asleep.
Having gone to bed early, he was corre-
spondingly wakeful in the morning, and
decided to get up.
Two or three hearty peals at the bell
produced no response. Withyford was
sleeping heavily after a surfeit of gaiety.
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WITHYFORD SHOW 115
He opened his door, and found his tub
with a full can by the side of it. This was
evidently forethought on the part of John,
and so he bundled the tub into his room,
and proceeded to fill it from the large can ;
the water from the Exe foamed as it
splashed into the bath. One look was
enough — it was beer !
The fates were against him ; he crept
into bed, and resignedly fell asleep again.
8—2
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CHAPTER XI
cyrus's coat-tail
" Madam, what shall be made of such as we,
Who with our dress our fortunes doff or don ?
My tailor knows (and who so well as he ?)
Mine's not the income to be married on."
Percy Reeve.
It was always a minor grievance with Cyrus
that it was not the custom for the field to
wear pink with stag-hounds on Exmoor,
and that the " red coat " was confined to
the master and hunt servants. Not only
did he enjoy the appearance of himself in
pink, but in the wider realms of mufti he
completely lost himself, and was conscious
of mistakes in his attire where there was no
hard-and-fast rule to guide him.
Cyrus noticed that whether Dick was
turned out for wet or fine weather all his
hunting kit seemed to harmonize, and he
determined to consult him about his own.
116
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CYRUS'S COAT-TAIL 117
Dick, when asked, was forced to admit
there was no law against wearing brown
butcher boots with a black frock-coat, but
he didn't think he should choose it himself,
and suggested grey Chipping-Norton tweed
instead.
Cyrus decided not to lose a moment
in obtaining a grey tweed coat, and Dick
thought that Mr. Field, the sporting tailor
in the moorland metropolis, would make
him exactly what he wanted. Dick was
rather bored by the subject, but good-
naturedly promised to go with Cyrus and
see fair play when the coat was ready to
try on.
Mr. Field was not only a good tailor, but
as he hunted regularly two days a week
himself, he knew exactly where the shoe
pinched, so to speak. He was very jealous
of his reputation, too, and had been known
to severely reprimand a young farmer at
the meet who was not doing him justice by
wearing his breeches with the buttons too
far round the leg.
Accordingly, when Cyrus and Dick ar-
rived for the trying-on process, he was
correspondingly flattered that they had not
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118 WTTHYFORD
given the order to one of those West-End
tailors in London, who, he explained, had
never been on a horse in their lives, much
less hunted.
This was one of Mr. Field's days of busi-
ness, and the hunter now was wholly domi-
nated by the instincts of the tailor. He
accordingly met his customers in his work-
ing attire, and with several tape-measures
festooned round his neck.
" Jim," said he, calling back into the
work-room, " saddle the black mare ;" and
the slippered apprentice went out into
the yard to do his bidding. Mr. Field
went on to explain, " If the coat, sir, is to
be worn on horseback, it should be fitted
on horseback."
Cyrus was then induced to put on the
garment, a thing of shreds and stitches,
and very odd he looked in it, mounted on
the black mare.
At this moment Molly arrived to see Mr.
Field about mending a habit, and, finding
no one in the shop, she walked round to the
yard.
Mr. Field was mounted on a chair,
decorating Cyrus's back with an equilateral
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f\ H&u+L*
THE MARE WENT SMARTLY OUT OP THE YARD.
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CYRUS'S COAT-TAIL 119
triangle in chalk. She would have as
quickly withdrawn again, but the pent-up
feelings of Dick gave way in an audible
laugh, and Cyrus turned his head, and so
did Mr. Field ; the chair, which had been
wobbling on the uneven cobbles of the yard,
now precipitated Mr. Field on to the stones,
and tipped over with a clatter at the horse's
feet. This was too much even for the nerves
of the black mare, who, finding the halter
was loose, gave one bound, and then went
smartly out of the yard at a hand canter.
As the halter-rope was trailing on the
ground, Cyrus was completely helpless ;
and so were Dick and Molly, but from
a different cause. Laughter held them
doubled up and speechless, nor was their
condition improved when the long stitches
gave way, and a liberal coat-tail fell in the
road behind the fleeing Cyrus. The village
now was thoroughly roused by the un-
wonted spectacle ; the coat-tail was re-
trieved by a small boy, who promptly joined
in the chase.
At the very last shop in the village the
baker ran out in time, and caught the
trailing rope of the halter, and Cyrus was
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120 WITHYFORD
led back, the centre of an admiring crowd,
with the small boy and the lost coat-tail
taking up the rear.
The yard gate was unceremoniously shut
on the crowd, and Mr. Field relieved his
feelings by cuffing the small bearer of the
coat-tail, who had followed them inside.
The chair was requisitioned once more,
but put on a more even basis, and this time
Dick held the horse's head.
" It wants a little more spring from the
waist," said ]VJr. Meld ; " but I think it
will make a nice coat, sir, for you."
" I guess it ought to. It's made a circus
of me up to now," said Cyrus.
" A most extraordinary accident, sir — a
combination of unfortunate circumstances,"
said Mr. Field, bowing them out of the
shop.
As they strolled up the main street they
met Jim Yards, the harbourer.
" Marnin', gentlemen," said Yards, touch-
ing his hat.
" Why, you've still got the old bay mare,"
said Dick.
" Yes, sir, I 'ave, sir. A wunnerful
mare she be. I've hunted her eleven
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CYRUS'S COAT-TAIL 121
seasons, got four foals from her, and she's
never been shut up in a stable. Rins out
in the field, she do, and comes under the
shelter when she likes."
" Is she very fast ?" ventured Cyrus.
" She can arlmost flyee, she can, sir."
Cyrus looked incredulous — at least Yards
thought he did — so he continued : " Yew
be pleased to s' excuse me, sir, but I'll race
any horse in the kingdom with this mare
— a Derby winner, I don't care whaat
yew brings — if yew but let me choose the
ground /"
Dick was intensely amused, as he knew
full well it was not the Derby winner he
would back in a race down the stony slopes
of what was known as the Graveyard.
Often he had seen Yards in an emergency
move over these rocks and down the steep
sides like a rabbit, and marvelled at his
nerve and the mare that could gallop on
such ground.
" It's the way they be brought up, sir.
If you was to put a horse from up-country
to such work, he would knock himself to
bits, and break your neck in the bargain,
sir, he would."
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122 WITHYFORD
Yards knew a great deal about a horse,
but very little of " up-country,' ' though it
was a favourite phrase of his.
"Now," said Cyrus, "I want to know
how you harbour a stag."
" Well," said Yards, " that be a terrible
long story. Yew caan't learn un in a week,
nor yet in a year. Yew wants to be always
about and learn the slots of un first ;
then when 'tis ser dryee yew can't tell one
from t'other. What I likes is a starm in
the early marnin', then I can see the marks
of un writ plain. Yew caan't mistake a
heavy deer if it's in the wet ground and
yew gets a good slot of un, 'cause he's
blunt in the toes and broad in the heel;
but when yew comes to harbour un 'tis
another matter. Yew have got to think
about wind, and 'tis often shifty down — in
the coombs — and if he gets the wind of
'ee he'll move for sarten, and yew won't
know et, neither. Then there's hinds;
they's wass than a contrary wind, the old
twoads ; they's always on the watch, they
be. Yew gentlemen be pleased to come
out next Tuesday, for we's like to get a rin
on the forest."
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CYRUS'S COAT-TAIL 123
"I certainly will," said Dick, "for it's
my last day this season, at all events."
"Well, sir, we shall have a rin, yew
mark my words. Now I be going to see
doctor, I be. I had to ride down over the
moor last night for un. My little boyee,
he took tarrible bad in the night."
" I am sorry," said Dick.
" Well," said Yards, " I should 'a gone
to this yer doctor " (referring to a well-
known Eton master), " wot's took the
Down House, but they dew tell me as he
ain't a praper doctor, but keeps a little
boyees' school somewheres up the country."
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CHAPTER XII
THE BEACON RUN
" The rushing Barle sounds far away ;
I hear the roaring pack ;
I see the stag we've run all day ;
In dreams I see him stand at bay,
A rock behind his back."
A. 0. F.
Several letters from London on urgent
matters had disturbed Dick's serenity
lately, and the uneasy consciousness of a
depletion in his banking account warned
him that his long holiday must at last come
to an end. He had, accordingly, fixed the
following Tuesday, referred to by Yards as
most likely to afford a good run, as a satis-
factory ending, and perhaps one that
would dwell in his memory for many a day.
On this particular morning the weather
seemed anything but propitious. An op-
pression and a heavy stillness in the atmo-
sphere suggested thunder ; there was not a
124
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THE BEACON RUN 125
breath of air even on the moor, and the
birds flew low and chattered in the
thickets, as though unwilling to leave the
shelter.
According to the secret information im-
parted by Yards there was an old stag he
knew to have his bed in the thick bracken
on the sides of the valleys between the
cliffs which bordered the Bristol Channel.
" If we can only head un from going out
to sea, he is bound to face the open," he
added.
This being Dick's last day, he was going
to treat himself to what was a luxury in
that country for the field — viz., a second
horse.
He accordingly told his groom to wait
out on the forest with the bay at the
Gallow's Post, where he would find the
second horses of the hunt.
The stag was supposed to be lying in a
valley of thick growth, where the tall fern
grew in its rankness four or five feet high.
There he had chosen his bed, knowing full
well that the pungent odour of it killed
all scent. So completely is this the case
when the growth is green, that hounds might
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126 WITHYFORD
pass within three or four feet and never
wind the stag.
The master asked the field if they would
kindly keep on the seaward side so as not
to head him from the moor.
Benjamin then took the whole pack into
the bracken and drew it towards the open
ground. There were no paths through it,
and the little tufting pony was entirely
lost in the tall branching fern,*and only a
small spot of pink coat indicated his
laboured progress.
At last hounds were seen to have drawn
it right through, and Benjamin was trotting
back to the master with the pack. Yards
was quite certain the stag was there : he
had watched him through his glasses enter
the coomb that very morning.
Benjamin said he thought that might
be, but the stag had moved. Yards said
he knew where he was, and asked the master
if he might go down and " whack un up "
with his whip.
The master sent hounds down again, and
Yards led the way. He was lost to view
for a moment, and then two cracks of his
ponderous whip rang in the valley ; there
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THE BEACON RUN 127
was a commotion, and a rush, and a brown
form leapt high out of the fern and sped up
the side of the hill, with the pack roaring
at his heels. He soon shook them off up
the steep, and for one moment looked as
if he was going to face the open ; but no,
the day was hot, and the last feed of
roots had been rather a hearty one. He
was not going to run for the fun of it,
when he could dodge round the cliffs and
hide.
The disappointed field watched as he
made a detour, and then lost sight of him
as he entered a little cover which ran down
to the rocks on the beach. If he thought
to hide here he was mistaken, for hounds
were much too close, and pushed him
through the wood, and in full view raced
him over the beach till he took safety in
the sea. Hounds followed him, but, float-
ing high out of water, he swam away from
them without the least exertion. Hounds,
on the other hand, with the small waves
breaking right over their faces, were fast
becoming exhausted.
Benjamin knew the danger of the stag
turning back and drowning the exhausted
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128 WITHYFORD
hounds one after the other with a stroke of
his fore-feet.
At this moment he was seen spurring his
way over the beach at full gallop amid the
scattering stones, and blowing his horn
with a vehemence that shattered the
muffled sounds of the surf.
One by one hounds heard it and turned.
As they faced the shore they were less
distressed, as they no longer had to face
the waves. Benjamin was now off his
horse and waded in the sea, boots, pink
coat and all, to hearten some of his
favourites that seemed almost sinking from
exhaustion. At last they were all safely
landed and shaking themselves, their eyes
smarting with the salt and sand, and their
faces puckered with distaste. Meanwhile,
this cunning old stag had floated leisurely
along the coast until he had got round the
point and out of sight.
Benjamin knew there was a tempting
cover round that point, and, finding no
pursuit, the stag would probably land
again.
He meant, if possible, to get between the
sea and the stag. He therefore led the
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THE BEACON RUN 129
field by tortuous paths along the cliff —
narrow paths that wound high up the sides
of the cliffs till the sea shone like a glass
straight under the stirrup-iron.
The progress was slow, and necessitated
Indian file and many stoppages. Unfor-
tunately, during a pause a horse in front of
Molly kicked a wild bees' nest in the bank-
side. The effect was immediate and start-
ling — horses were kicking and spluttering
in the narrow path, and angry bees were
buzzing in all directions. Dick yelled to
a friend ahead to gallop, and the line of
horses moved out of the danger-zone in
quick time, heedless of the narrow way.
" That's a let off," said Molly, as they at
last pulled up. " I expected every moment
my horse was going to take a sort of
4 smuggler's leap ' with me into the un-
known."
" I am not sorry to get off those paths
myself," said Dick. " They'd try the
nerves of a goat."
When they got down to the beach, they
found the slot in the sand where the stag
had come ashore, and the only question
was, had he laid up, or had he gone on ?
9
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130 WITHYFORD
Benjamin waved his hounds into the
cover, and almost immediately there was a
" halloo !" above, but the whip moved down
to say it was a farmer who was tallying a
light deer, with but "two-a-top" one
side. This was a young deer that the
heavy stag had evidently forced to run
for him, and Benjamin knew he was lying
still in the vacated bed, waiting till hounds
had settled on the line of his " understudy."
Hounds were stopped and brought back
again, but so close did he lie, with his head
pressed flat on the ground, and holding his
breath when hounds were near, that they
passed by him, till at last an actual nip on
the haunch from Michael told him he was
discovered. With a bound and a stroke of
his fore-foot, he sent the old hound flying
head over heels into the thicket, and then
sped away up through the wood.
The horn was going now merrily with
short, eager blasts, that electrify as only
a horn can that is blown at a gallop.
" Forrard on ! forrard on ! forrard !" and
there is a scurry down the woodland paths
to the road at the bottom that leads up
the valley to the moor.
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THE BEACON RUN 131
" He is going right this time," said Dick,
as he galloped tip to Molly, " and we are in
for a good thing."
" In for a good thunderstorm," said
Molly. " Listen to that !" as an angry
peal of thunder burst from overhead and
then echoed and re-echoed round the hills.
" He is going to take us u$ the Beacon,"
said Dick ; " and he is a straight-necked
one, you'll see. Mind the grips !" he
called, as his horse stumbled, and then re-
covered himself with a scramble, in which
his nose was nearly on the ground.
At this moment the lightning flashed in
forks over the dark heather, and at the
same instant the air seemed to split and
vibrate with a crash of thunder that fol-
lowed. One lady's horse bolted, and tore
back down the slopes. Two cavaliers de-
tached themselves from the field, and rode
in pursuit, while the chase swept madly on.
For a little while the stag was seen out-
lined against the dark sky as he topped the
shoulder of the Beacon. The lightning
seemed now to play on the very stirrup-
irons as it flashed along the ground, while
the unceasing crashes of thunder maddened
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132 WITHYFORD
horses with fright. Then came the blinding
rain that blotted out everything on the
horizon.
Hounds were racing through it all on a
screaming scent.
" Look at Benjamin !" said Dick, to
cheer Molly a little.
Benjamin was standing up in his stirrups,
with his body bent forward and eyes
scanning the distance for a view, and his
good grey galloping under him.
In cheery tones between the shattering
peals of thunder came the well-known
voice, " Forrard on ! Forrard on ! For-
rard !"
" I guess he'd ride through the gates of
death if there was only a scent," said
Cyrus. " But tell me, how high is this
molehill, Miss Farquharson ?"
" Fourteen hundred feet," she said.
" I guess they got me on a pedestal for
thia ^thunderstorm," he added.
Molly laughed — she had to — and so they
cheered her along ; but they had little
breath really for talking, the pace was too
hot.
They were now over the brow, and going
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THE BEACON RUN 133
down the steep sides ; surely the stag had
gone into the covers. No ; the line swung
to the right ; his point was the other side
of the forest, and he was going to reach it
or die on the way.
" My horse will never get over the
forest ; he is nearly done now," said Molly.
" I have got a second at Gallow's Post,"
said Dick. "If he has not been washed
away, you shall have that. My chestnut
is full of go still, and will stay for a week."
Benjamin sheered off to meet his second
horse, and Dick and Molly followed.
Cyrus said: " I guess I am going home,
for I'm no water-rat to stand this climate."
Dick's groom luckily came up first, as
they had to change saddles. Molly was
off in an instant, and with fingers trembling
in her excitement, she helped to undo the
buckles of the girths. The saddles were
hastily exchanged, and then, with a " One,
two, three !" and a spring, she was up on
the back of the bay horse. Meantime,
Benjamin had got his second horse, and*
bringing it alongside the one he was
riding, he had vaulted from one saddle to
the other, and was off after the flying pack.
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134 WITHYFORD
" We have got to catch him," said Dick,
" because he knows the way over the
bog."
Then they sat down to ride their hardest.
Dick marvelled at the staying powers of the
chestnut, and vowed to himself he would
never part with her.
After a long, stern chase they were re-
lieved to see Benjamin pull up into a trot
as he reached the soft ground, and they
soon caught him, and were following cau-
tiously in the wake of his coat-tail. Patches
of white bog-flower and suspicious green
turf were on each side of them. Benjamin
made no mistakes, but trotted on confi-
dently, sometimes in a winding track, but
always on, till at last they reached the
sound ground, and were once more gallop-
ing hard.
Benjamin said they must catch hounds
at a place called the Ponds, as they had
cut off a corner coming over the bog.
Sure enough a line of white dots was
seen on the horizon coming across their
front, and they pulled up and breathed
their horses. The old hounds were seen
to be leading the pack, running with
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THE BEACON RUN 135
heckles up, and Benjamin said their stag
would never cross the water.
He was right, for as they descended the
hill which sloped down to the river, now
swollen with rain to a brown, swirling
torrent, they heard the roaring bay of the
pack. Hounds and stag were fighting in
the cascade of brown water, and the spray
from the conflict flew high over the inter-
secting rocks. Once he reared his head
proudly above the waters, then, as he was
carried off his feet, it slowly sank again,
and the drowned body moved rapidly with
the current. Luckily, the horns caught in
a projecting bough of a tree, and with
extreme difficulty the body of this gallant
stag was brought to the bank.
After the first excitement was over, Dick
turned to Molly, who, he thought, was
looking very white. She had got off her
horse, and was resting on a rock at some
distance from the fray.
" I have found out there is a farm about
a mile off, where we may get some gruel,
and possibly a cup of tea. Meanwhile, you
must have a drink from my flask."
Molly protested, but Dick was all-master-
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136 WITHYFORD
ful for once, and insisted, and so, with
one look which haunted him for months,
she raised her eyes to his and drank
obediently.
Then he helped her to mount, and they
walked slowly along the path that led to
the farm-house. For once the mile was a
short one, and Molly was soon sitting in
front of the kitchen fire, watching the tea
being made. Dick had got some oatmeal,
which he put into a pail and poured boiling
water on it till it just made a thick paste,
then he filled up the bucket with cold
water, and was rewarded by seeing the
eagerness of the honest muzzles that
plunged in and finished two pails full.
Tea was now ready, with thick slices of
home-made bread-and-butter, after which
their spirits revived considerably.
" We mustn't wait long," said Dick. " I
want to get on to the road before it's dark,
and then we are all right."
" I am quite ready," said Molly, rising
and collecting her whip and gloves. Merci-
fully, the rain had stopped now, and thus
late in the day it showed signs of clearing.
Along the rim of the horizon was a clear
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THE BEACON RUN 137
streak of blue sky, which was widening as
the curtain of dark cloud lifted.
As they reached the moor a pale shaft of
sunlight slanted over the heather, and then
faded as the sun gradually sank westward
in the sea.
They had both been riding in silence for
some time, when Molly impulsively, holding
out a hand towards him, said, "I never
thanked you for giving up your horse to
me."
Dick meant to say some playful phrase
as he just touched the gloved hand, but
the words wouldn't come, and something
was thumping and pounding up in his
throat, and he thought it must be his
heart. He just managed "Not at all,"
and pulled himself together.
" You are very silent," said Molly.
" I am going away to-morrow," he
said.
"So you told me; and when are you
coming back ?"
"I am afraid not at all," he said. "I
am so ghastly poor, it only makes me dis-
contented."
Molly looked hurt, and then a shadow of
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138 WITHYPORD
anger stole across her face, but she said
nothing.
It was dusk now, and the moor was
hushed in the stillness that followed the
day of storm. As they rode on in silence
over the grass road they were conscious of
a crowded wild life around them which
stirs with approaching night. Strange eyes
of curiosity peered at them from the dark
folds in the heather, and the moor seemed
to be alive with stealthy little footsteps
that trembled on the brink of hearing.
When they arrived at the gates of the
Dower House, it was Dick who broke the
silence. " You were angry with me just
now," he said. " What can I do to
mollify you ?"
" Oh, was I ?" came the answer. " Well,
make me no puns, and, above all, ask me
no conundrums. Good night," she said,
" and good-bye."
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CHAPTER XIII
" TO BE OR NOT TO BE "
" Ask, ere the youngster be rated and chidden,
What did he carry, and how was he ridden i
Maybe they'd used him too much at the start,
Maybe fate's weight-cloths were breaking his heart."
Kipling.
Molly went straight to her room, send-
ing word to her father that she should
not be down again that evening, as she
was tired, a statement that was perfectly
true.
Dick's thoughts as he rode to the inn
were a whirl. He came to the conclusion
he had never had to take such a hard grip
of himself before. He was sure he had
done the proper thing. What right had
he to speakr with nothing to offer her ?
She didn't suspect, and no harm was done
as far as she was concerned, and that was
all he cared about.
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140 WITHYFORD
He felt stiff and cold as he got off his
horse in the stable-yard, and, although
worn out with fatigue and the excitement
of the day, there was a sense of satisfaction
in all he had done.
This was his last evening in the old inn,
and he thought a small bottle of Perrier
Jouet with the usual trout and chicken
would brighten matters a little. He had
found a few bottles in Mr. Feathers's cellar
that had lain there forgotten for years, and
which bore the date of a long -famous
vintage. These Dick had reserved for
special occasions, and if ever he deserved
one, he felt it was to-night.
Mrs. Feathers, as usual, protested she
was expecting some fresh in, and was so
sorry it had never come, but Dick was
resigned, and said the old would do quite
well. " Such an easy gentleman he is to
please, w she confided to the maid.
All the next morning Dick was busy with
his packing and making arrangements for
his departure. .
Mr. Feathers intimated that he was
short of horses, and would like to buy the
chestnut mare, but Dick said he had just
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" TO BE, OR NOT TO BE " 141
decided not to part with that one, but that
the other two were for sale, whereupon Mr.
Feathers, who had always an eye to busi-
ness, made a bid, and got them at his own
figure.
When Dick was once more seated in the
old wagonette, driving to the station, he
thought the moor had never looked so in-
viting.
There lay a panorama of country on all
sides of him bathed in sunshine. The old
Beacon that yesterday he had ridden over
wreathed in tragedy was now smiling
benignantly, and seemed quite close in the
clear sunshine.
As his vision travelled over the heathered
slopes in the. distance, his eye was attracted
by what looked like a lady on a grey horse
that was standing still, facing towards the
long road on which he was travelling.
What would he have not gjiven for his
glasses at that moment ! He was sure it
was Molly. He pulled up and strained his
eyes to see. The rider turned her horse,
and suddenly galloped away down into
the coomb. He watched her until she
disappeared, and then, with a sickening
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142 WITHYFORD
sense of depression, he continued his
journey.
A week had passed since Dick's departure,
and as the days went by Molly had tried
in vain to analyse her feelings. There was
a sense of restlessness which was altogether
strange to her. At first she was angry
with herself, and then followed a listlessness,
in which mood she took no interest in any-
thing.
Her old nurse, who now acted as her
maid, saw something was wrong, and tried
to comfort her.
" Is there no colour in the heather for
yew to-day, dearie ?" she said, and got
badly snubbed for her pains.
Had Cyrus known her mood, it was pos-
sible he might have got that tete-a-tete
which he had so often sought ; but he
didn't know, and there was no one to
tell him.
He was quite aware she had just parted
with a most particular friend, and man-
like in his delicacy of thought, it seemed
mean to press her just now with his atten-
is, so he kept away.
srning as she came down to break-
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" TO BE, OR NOT TO BE " 143
fast, wondering how she was going to get
through the day, she found among her
letters on the hall -table one addressed
with a strong hand, a thing apart among
the girlish scrawls and tradesmen's cir-
culars.
She instantly pounced on it (there was
no one to see the blush), and then hurried
back to her room and locked the door
against interruption.
She knew the writing. It was on the
answer to her picnic invitation, which
answer she hadn't destroyed yet. Eager
fingers tore the envelope and then she
read :
" Dear Miss Fabqtjhabson,
" Just a note to tell you I am going
to South Africa for probably five months.
Some friends of mine have started a small
company there, and they have deputed me
to go and look after their interests. The
only reason they gave for asking me to go
was that I looked so nice in a top-hat,
from which infliction, by the way, I shall
escape for a few months !
" I hope you were not too tired after the
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144 W1THYF0RD
Beacon day. It seems years 'agone,' as
Benjamin would say.
" Please give my kind regards to your
father.
" Yours sincerely,
"R. M. B. Fosteb."
" P.T.O.
"I sail to-morrow from Southampton
in the Dublin Castle."
Molly read and re-read again and again.
Then she wrote a telegram of two words,
" Bon voyage." This she addressed to the
Dublin Castle, Southampton, and, having
sent the stable-boy off with it, went in to
breakfast.
It was, perhaps, unlucky for Cyrus he
should choose that particular afternoon to
call on Molly. He had previously had a
long and earnest conversation with her
father concerning his hopes and the amount
of dollars at his disposal, and, armed with
the parental blessing, he went to seek his
fortune.
" Yes, Miss Molly was at home," and he
was shown into the drawing-room. There
he was kept in the agony of suspense for
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" TO BE, OR NOT TO BE " 145
some moments, wondering how he should
broach the subject. He had an instinctive
feeling she was not likely to help him at all.
At last there were footsteps, the door
was thrown wide open, and Molly entered.
" May I congratulate you ?" said Mr.
Farquharson a few moments later, as
Cyrus entered his sanctum.
" I am afraid not, Squire," was the reply.
" Guess I feel like the one man in the world
that isn't wanted."
" Nonsense !" said the Squire. " Try
your hick again in a few months."
" Well, I can do that ; but I expect the
answer is going to be the same."
" You have my best wishes for your
success," said the Squire.
When the visitor had gone, Mr. Farquhar-
son rose to seek Molly. In his inmost heart
he felt the mission required more delicate
handling than he was capable of giving it.
He shrank from getting involved in matters
which were purely feminine, but in his strait-
ened circumstances he was most anxious
for Molly to be provided for. He saw in
Cyrus the solution of all his difficulties, and
10
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146 WITHYFORD
he had never contemplated the possibility
of his rejection,
Molly was still sitting in the drawing-
room, knitting a stocking. She showed
no consciousness at her father's approach,
except, perhaps, the needles flashed a
thought quicker in the maze of wool-work.
" Molly," he said, " I have just been
talking to Mr. Potts."
"So* have I," she said. "And I am
glad he has gone."
The Squire was determined not to lose
his temper, so he began patiently to express
his disappointment that she had not looked
more favourably on Cyrus's suit, and then
went on to explain the necessities of the
case as far as he was concerned. Molly
listened patiently, but there was an angry
glint in her grey eyes, and her father felt
he was not making much headway. At
last he changed his tone, and appealed to
her to try and please him in a matter on
which he had set his heart. He reminded
her that Cyrus was to ask her again for an
answer in a few months' time, and would
she try and make it a favourable one ?
Poor Molly ! All the gladness seemed to
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" TO BE, OR NOT TO BE " 147
have gone out of her life ; there was,
indeed, no colour in the heather for her
now.
By some inscrutable means all her inti-
mate friends got to understand she had
refused Mr. Potts the millionaire, and many
were the kindly-meant hints she received
as to the imprudence of such a proceeding.
Meanwhile Cyrus bombarded her with
candies, and other small gifts she could
not exactly refuse under the circumstances,
to say nothing of proffered horses and other
well-meant attentions.
Her father lost no opportunity of asking
Cyrus to the house, and expressing his
approval of him on every occasion.
The tension became so great that Molly
thought she had perhaps better yield to
the inevitable, and so please everybody
concerned but herself.
Even a favourite aunt, to whom she
looked for sympathy, had written a long
letter counselling worldly wisdom ; and had
playfully reminded her that millionaires
did not grow on gooseberry bushes.
Month after month went by, and Molly
dreaded the time when Cyrus would speak
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148 WITHYFORD
again, for she was not decided as to what
her answer would be.
Cyrus had a notion time was all in his
favour, and he was not going to run any
unnecessary risks. He had persuaded him-
self he only had to wait, and so the winter
passed, and a very unhappy time it was
for Molly, till she almost felt she could
bear the suspense no longer, and that she
must put an end to a situation which was
becoming intolerable.
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CHAPTER XIV
THE GOLDEN CITY
" Hasten time ! Anticipation
Still is only sweet probation,
Deepening love's infatuation,
Yet most hard to bear.
Come, then, Monday ! Do not linger.
Clock, turn swift your lazy finger,
Point the hour that safe will bring her
For my heart to wear."
Percy Reeve.
Dick had been some months in South
Africa managing the affairs of the London
Syndicate, and securing options of purchase
on various farm-lands suspected of being
auriferous, during which time he had
learned something of the country, and
much of the mingled stupidity and craft of
the Dutch farmer.
One day in the Golden City, when talking
business "between the chains," a place
which corresponded with his own Throg-
149
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160 WTTHYFORD
morton Street, a chance acquaintance told
him of an old Boer farmer who had ridden
in to the city to try and sell his farm, and
who was looking for an ardent English
colonist as a likely purchaser.
"Usual story, I suppose," said Dick —
" no water ?"
"Yes, there is water, and that is the
' funny part,' " was the reply ; " there is
plenty in the river, but no cattle will drink
it, and the farmer's stock have all died
from drought. This little item he is keep-
ing to himself, and as the river is full he
is sure to catch some poor, unsuspecting
tenderfoot."
Dick had just completed his work for
the company, and having nothing special
on hand at the moment he decided to
investigate. There was the lump sum paid
him by the company for his work lying
at the bank untouched, and he was by no
means adverse to a speculation ; moreover,
his curiosity was roused to see that water
which the cattle would not drink.
There was no difficulty in finding the
farmer, who expressed a desire to show
him the farm at once, and then and there
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THE GOLDEN CITY 151
they made an arrangement to ride out and
see it.
One of the chief allurements the farmer
referred to was the never-failing supply of
water, and Dick on arrival became im-
mensely interested in the river ; he looked
at it very closely, and saw that little bubbles
in thousands were floating on the top. He
at once suspected that he knew the reason
why the cattle wouldn't drink. At all
events, he was prepared to chance it. Of
course it was a pure speculation, and he
might find himself with a perfectly useless
farm on his hands. Then there was the
other side of the picture, which meant
success ; and he flushed at the thought, as
the vision of the sweetest girl he had ever
known came between him and the coarse
form of the rotund Dutchman.
Dick went through the rest of the inspec-
tion as a matter of form. The farmer
would sell very cheaply, and was in haste
to close the deal. Dick was no less eager,
but strove to make the best bargain he
could, and thus after much haggling it was
fixed. An appointment with an attorney
was made on the following day when, with
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152 W1THYF0RD
the help of the lump sum at the bank, the
purchase was completed. That night the
oft-repeated story of the farmer's slim-
ness made him the hero of an admiring
circle.
Now the farm was really his Dick felt
qualms as to the wisdom of his speculation.
The first thing to be done was to get
expert advice on the subject. He accord-
ingly wired to a friend, who was a partner
in a large engineering firm at the Cape,
who had had long experience in America
of the kind required, and asked him to
come.
Dick felt still more nervous as he rode
out once more in company with the
engineer, and he took him straight to the
river.
The engineer paused when he saw the
water.
" What do you think ?" said Dick.
"I don't think," was the answer, "I
know — it's oil, and there's money in it."
" So far, so good," said Dick, as calmly as
he could, " but I have no capital to work
with, so I must just set about selling the
whole thing as it stands."
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THE GOLDEN CITY 153
" Don't you be in a hurry," was the reply.
" I know some capitalists who will find the
money to sink a well, and work it on the
report I could make now."
The engineer was as good as his word,
though it took some time to arrange
matters, yet when the well was sunk there
was no doubt about the oil — there was
more than they could cope with. Still
more capital was needed, but the members
of the syndicate were men of finance, and
said it was much too good a thing to throw
to the public at this stage, and they
arranged to buy Dick out, partly in shares
and partly in cash.
As the oil continued, they sunk another
well, and struck oil again ; then they bought
more of Dick's shares, but this time at a
higher figure.
Dick had no idea of remaining longer
than he could help in Africa. The strain
and anxiety of the last few months had
left him little leisure to think of anything
but the work in hand. He had scarcely
realized yet his altered circumstances. It
all seemed so marvellous to him, even in
this land of surprises and quick fortunes,
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154 WITHYFORD
which were common enough in the early
days of the Golden City.
He meant, if possible, to realize all his
interests for cash so that he would have
no ties that would mean further anxiety,
and possibly entail another journey to
Africa. This precluded the possibility of
his leaving at once for England; yet he
would have liked to have seen Molly, for,
being completely in the dark as to her
feelings towards him, the thought of the
ever-present Cyrus burnt like a hot iron.
As he couldn't leave, he did the next best
thing in his own mind ; he wrote to her a
long, friendly letter telling her that his
work was nearly finished, and that he was
returning as soon as he could to Exmoor.
Of his good fortune he said nothing,
deciding to reserve this surprise that it
should lose nothing in the telling when
they met.
This letter took a long time to write ;
he was frightened of saying too much and
prematurely displaying his real feelings.
Many rough drafts were written and re-
written before he got it to his satisfaction,
and when he had consigned the letter to
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THE GOLDEN CITY 156
the post-box he felt he could do no more
for the present.
He was feeling very restless, so he went
to the office and tried to occupy his mind
with the prospect of the third well which
was to be sunk on the property. If this
proved a success he hoped to dispose of his
remaining interests in the concern. He
found nothing to be done there, however,
and he strolled into the club for dinner and
distraction.
Conversation, as usual, touched on the
shortcomings of the Boer administration in
the city, and the daily outrages that went
on with impunity. The fact that the robbery
of a letter-carrier had just been added to the
list of misdeeds seemed to have no particular
interest for him ; he was heartily sick of the
whole thing, and was longing to get away.
The remaining weeks dragged on in soul-
tormenting inactivity. He had just made
up his mind to sacrifice the rest and go,
when a favourable report came as to the
third boring. His partners were only too
anxious now to get matters entirely in
their own hands, and Dick made his own
terms for the remainder of his holding.
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166 WITHYFORD
He was indeed a rich man, and the
sensation had all the pleasure of being a
novelty. What his future plans were he
was not quite certain. One thing was
clear to him, however — there would be no
more city work and its concomitant anxiety.
The mere occupation of making money
was not a pastime after his heart ; he had
not been brought up that way. His was a
much wider field of interest with a healthy
capacity for simple enjoyment.
He was not long making his final arrange-
ments, and the day came at last when he
found himself actually on board the Dublin
Castle — the same good ship on which he
had sailed from home under very different
circumstances less than a year ago.
The first throb of the screw that vibrated
through the vessel sent an answering thrill
through Dick's pulses, as he realized he
had at last started on the journey which
would decide his fate.
Small wonder he grew impatient when
he thought of the five thousand odd miles
of sea which had to be traversed. His
nights became hideous with misgivings ;
once the words of "M' Andrew's hymn"
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THE GOLDEN CITY 157
came to his mind as he lay awake and
listened to the slow-throbbing engines, and
he speculated with the ghost of a grin as to
how many accelerating turns Ferguson
would have given the engines in his
circumstances.
The monotonous routine of the life on
the steamer, too, bored him till he quite
welcomed the diversion of a storm, which
confined most of the passengers to their
cabins, and considerably curtailed the
length of the dinners in the saloon.
It so happened that his regular neighbour
at dinner was a Mrs. Sanderson, the
attractive widow of a naval officer, and
on this particular night she alone had
braved the terrors of the saloon dinner.
The heavy seas which had been striking the
ship aft most of the day had worked up a
considerable roll, the most disconcerting of
all movements at dinner. In vain the
fiddles were screwed on the table — plates
and glasses acknowledged no barriers at
an angle of forty degrees.
Mrs. Sanderson had bravely entered the
saloon, and was making for her allotted
chair, when a sudden upheaval propelled
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158 WITHYFORD
her at a run to the other side of the saloon,
where she held on to the screwed table.
For some moments she clung to her
support as though unwilling to take the
risk of leaving it. Dick witnessed the
incident with some concern, when one
irresistible appeal from those brown eyes
brought him to the rescue.
Hand-in-hand they cautiously made their
way back to the dinner-table, Dick feeling
slightly embarrassed with his charge.
At that moment a Portuguese steward
measured his length on the floor, together
with a pile of plates he was carrying with
both hands ; this created a startling diver-
sion, and eased the situation considerably.
Dick and his friend decided to dispense
with soup, as being too frisky a plat under
the circumstances, and a small piece of
boiled sole was safely landed before them.
" Don't you come near me with that
sauce," said Dick ; " it's not safe," as the
steward hovered towards him with a huge
bowl of thick white mixture.
They then decided the next course should
be plain roast mutton, as being easy to
handle.
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THE GOLDEN CITY 159
Mrs. Sanderson declared the motion had
grown worse, and was frightened of falling
out of her chair if she didn't hold on.
Under these circumstances, Dick offered to
cut the mutton up for her, so that she could
eat it more easily. Then he gave her a
spoon ; still she held on, and the mutton
remained untouched ; there was nothing for
it but to gallantly offer to feed her with the
spoon. Then the brown eyes twinkled
with mischief, as her short white teeth
closed over the spoon he awkwardly held
to her lips.
" Little children mustn't take too large
a mouthful," she laughed, " and I think I
could perhaps manage if I held on with one
hand now we are not rolling quite so much."
Although Dick felt he was making the
best of the storm, he was somewhat relieved
when the dinner came to an end and Mrs.
Sanderson asked him if he would see her
safely as far as the cabin.
Then she thanked him almost timidly,
and, with another flash of the brown eyes,
bid him good night.
There was no comfort to be had anywhere
on the ship ; everything was damp with
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160 WITHYPORD
spray, and the deck passages were awash
with sea-water.
Under these depressing circumstances he
sought his own bunk, and for the first time
since he had been on board he slept the
night through.
In the morning he found the storm had
abated, but there was something of a ground
swell remaining to recall the previous
night's adventures ; nor was this the only
reminder, for on going into the smoking-
room after breakfast he was ruthlessly
chaffed by a gossiping Colonel on his un-
remitting attentions to the widow. Dick
could only retort that he was sorry the
Colonel was not in a position to offer his
own services at the time. Still, he felt
annoyed with himself, and wondered if this
Gossip knew he fed her with a spoon.
This point he was unable to elicit, but made
a resolution within himself that he would
take a pull at the ribbons as far as the
widow was concerned.
For the remainder of the voyage he was
busy trying to put this worthy resolution
into practice. Poor Mrs. Sanderson, had
she known that the vision of another girl's
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THE GOLDEN CITY 161
face was haunting Dick day and night,
many of his absent-minded answers would
have been plain to her, and perhaps then
the Colonel's advances in her direction
would not have been so ruthlessly snubbed.
As the voyage drew to an end, Dick's
plight seemed to grow worse, and the days
seemed to drag more slowly, till he was
almost feverish in his impatience to have
done with the steamer.
It seemed the longest voyage he had
ever undertaken, till at last one afternoon
the throbbing propeller stopped, and the
anchor-chain rattled down into the blue
Southampton Water.
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CHAPTER XV
A SURPRISE
" Life is chiefly froth and bubble ;
Two things stand like stone :
Kindness in another's trouble, >
Courage in your own."
Lindsay Gordon.
Bradshaw revealed the impossibilities of a
cross-country journey to Withyford, and
Dick accordingly went straight up to town,
and decided to travel down to his destina-
tion by the first train from Paddington in
the morning.
On this journey he was too impatient to
enjoy the sight of the country, although the
small cultivated fields and hedgerows were
grateful to his eye, so lately accustomed to
the vastness of the arid veld. It was not,
however, until he reached Mulworthy that
he really felt at home once more. His
head was out of the window as the train
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A SURPRISE 163
drew up at the little platform, and he caught
a glimpse of the wagonette waiting for him,
that had taken him to the station only a few
short months since. The same two patient
horses were standing with the reins on their
backs, just as he had seen them in his last
view as the train bore him away.
Events had moved so rapidly for him,
and he had travelled so far and been through
such varied experiences, that he almost
marvelled to find Mulworthy unchanged
in one single detail.
It was one of those lovely days peculiar
to March in the West Country, when no
cloud appears in the sky from sunrise to
sunset, the high wooded hills seem to
reflect the warmth, and life awakes to a
foretaste of summer. The rooks were
whirling high in the tree-tops, their plumage
looking steel-blue in the sunlight against
the brown swelling buds of the trees.
As Dick drove through the enclosed
country, sheep and lambs penned in the
fields were bleating in chorus ; close against
the roadside hedge was a sheep-dog meekly
submitting himself to the outraged feelings
of a mother who mercilessly butted him in
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164 WITHYFORD
the ribs, while his head was turned wist-
fully in the direction of the shepherd for
instructions.
It was all very delightful, this home-
coming. There was the dear old Beacon
of sporting memory ; so pleased was he to
see it again that, had it not been for the
prosaic driver, he would have raised his
hat, and given a view-halloo in salutation.
Soon the brakes were scraping on the
wheels of the wagonette, and the long
winding descent had begun. Yes, there
was the inn, and, above all, there was
Mr. Feathers awaiting his arrival.
" Mr. Feathers," he said, after the first
short greeting, "I want lunch sharp and
the dog-cart at three o'clock."
" Lunch be all ready, sir ; you be pleased
to step in."
Dick did ample justice to the lunch, in
spite of occasional qualms of trepidation,
which he steadied with a brandy-and-soda,
Mr. Feathers's whisky being of a brand that
was not to be trifled with.
After lunch he went up to his room and
changed, selecting a suit and tie with ex-
treme care ; and he presented a very well-
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A SURPRISE 165
finished appearance when he took his seat
in the cart.
Mr. Feathers pondered the meaning of all
this, but could find no solution, and wisely
held his tongue.
When Dick arrived at the Dower House,
he drove straight round to the stable-yard,
gave his cart in charge of a groom, and
then, as he pulled at the ponderous front-
door bell, he was conscious that his heart
was hammering under the third button of
his waistcoat.
" No ; Miss Molly was away, but the
Squire was in."
Dick followed mechanically, and, with
a sensation of numbness, found himself
shaking hands with the Squire. T' old
Squire was in great form, and very pleased
to see him. Dick's first question was as to
Molly.
" She is in town staying with my sister,"
was the reply, " and I have great news
from her only this morning. She is en-
gaged to be married," and, not noticing
Dick's expression, he went on : " The lucky
man is Mr. Cyrus Potts, whom I think
you But, my dear boy," he said,
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186 WITHYFORD
" you're looking seedy. Have a drink ;
there's brandy, whisky. I never have tea
myself — old woman's stuff, I call it, and
spoils your dinner too."
All the time this tactful old man was
sustaining the entire conversation, Dick
covered his confusion in a deep, long drink.
Then he felt better.
" Now, sit down and tell me all about
yourself," said the Squire.
" There is nothing much worth telling,"
said Dick in a bewildered way. " It is a
beastly country, and I was very glad to
get out of it."
" It seems to me," said the Squire,
" from the paper, that the present condition
of things points to war."
" Yes," said Dick, " it will be worse
before it's better."
" Now, where are you staying ?"
" At the inn," said Dick, " for a few days,
and then I am going up to town. By the
by," he added, " will you give me Molly's
address ?"
" Certainly," said the Squire ; " here it
is." And he tore off the heading of her
letter.
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A SURPRISE 167
When Dick had gone, the Squire pulled
his chair up to the fire, and stared into the
coals. It struck him there had been a
narrow escape, and that Cyrus had only
won by a short head, as he termed it.
In his heart of hearts he was genuinely
sorry for Dick, for there was no doubt the
boy was hard hit. Had he known all, he
might, indeed, have been sorry for himself
at this moment, but Dick had not breathed
a word of his altered circumstances ; so
the Squire resigned himself to the inevit-
able with something of a sigh, and sat down
and wrote Molly his congratulations on her
engagement to Mr. Cyrus Potts.
It was with a feeling of relief Dick got
outside the house ; he wanted to be by him-
self and think it all out. As he drove back
he seemed to realize the misery of it all,
and what he had lost. Still, he determined
to take his gruel like a man, and make the
best of things.
Now he was here he had better stay for
a day or so. Perhaps Molly would write
when she heard ; anyhow, he meant to see
her in town. He remained three days at
the inn, pottering about in a state of un-
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168 WITHYFORD
enviable indecision, but no letter came, and
so on the fourth day he took the early
train to London and put up at his club.
Then he arrayed himself in his smartest
town clothes, and presented himself at
the address in Queen's Gate late in the
afternoon.
Nominally he was calling to congratulate
Miss Farquharson on her recent engagement
to Mr. Potts, but in his heart of hearts he
knew he was calling to find out why on earth
Molly had accepted him.
He was lucky enough to find her at home.
Perhaps Molly read with a woman's quick
intuition an aspect of reproach in Dick,
for there was something of an answering
defiance in her attitude as she rose and
formally greeted her visitor.
" No doubt your father told you I was
home," said Dick.
"Yes, he did," said MoUy airily; "but
we had a fellow-passenger of yours here
the other day, so I heard beforehand all
about you ;" and she placed a decided em-
phasis on the " all."
" Who was it ?" said Dick.
" A Colonel Ward, who "
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A SURPRISE 169
" I know," interrupted Dick ; " rather an
old gossip I thought him on board."
"He is a great friend of my aunt's,"
retorted Molly coldly.
Dick felt the situation rather strained,
and hastily turned the subject.
"I came to congratulate you on your
engagement," said Dick, in partial veracity.
Molly slowly bent her head, and said,
" Thank you very much."
Then it occurred to her perhaps she
was being too hard, and possibly he was
really very fond of Mrs. Sanderson, after
all, so it was with a more softened tone
she said: "I hope we shall see some-
thing of you again this season down in
the West."
Dick was not in the mood to think of
Exmoor, under the new conditions, and
demurred. -
" Oh, do come !" she said impulsively ;
" we will all go down in August. It will be
the greatest fun."
Dick was not at all sure it would be the
greatest fun for him, but he didn't say so.
What he did say was, very casually, " Did
you get my letter ?"
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170 WITHYFORD
"Yes," said Molly; "I got it this
morning."
" This morning ?" repeated Dick ; " why,
I posted it two months ago."
" Well," she remarked, " it was much the
worse for wear — at least, the envelope was
— and there was a notice with it, something
about being stolen and recovered."
"I posted it myself," said Dick, and
then paused. " Of course," he said, " I
remember — they robbed the mail."
" Robbed the mail !" echoed Molly.
" Yes," said Dick ; " I paid no heed to it
at the time, but now I remember hearing
something about it when I went into the
club one day, but of course I did not think
it was my letter. That's just my luck," he
added.
Molly could find nothing to say, only the
grey eyes looked thoughtful as she held out
her hand to bid him good-bye.
When Dick had gone, Molly went straight
to her room and re-read his letter over and
over again, and then locked it away safely
where she kept her treasures.
Dick was feeling decidedly rudderless as
he walked down Queen's Gate and made
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A SURPRISE 171
his way mechanically to the Park. For
the first time in his life he had absolutely
no plans, and no necessity for doing any
special thing at an allotted time; yet the
feeling of schoolboy elation which is sup-
posed to attend this ecstatic condition was
entirely absent ; but then, schoolboys did
not fall in love, or, if they did, the feeling
was well under control.
What on earth was he to do with himself ?
he wondered, as he strolled down Picca-
dilly, aimlessly looking at the shops ; and
then he grew bored with the pavement full
of people doing the same thing, so he de-
cided to have his hair cut. If he put himself
entirely in the hands of a leisurely barber,
it ought to bring him right up to dinner-
time, and after that he would do a theatre
somewhere.
He was about to put this little programme
in operation when, above the dull roar of
the traffic, came the penetrating falsetto
of the newspaper-boy raised to a pitch of
excitement.
There were two boys working at a run
one each side of the street. People were
darting between the traffic to buy papers ;
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172 WITHYFORD
the boys never seemed to pause to give
change, but ran on unheeding. Two or
three times the refrain was repeated before
Dick caught it ; then it reached his ears
plainly enough : " Kruger's ultimatum —
official !"
"That's war," he muttered, as he read
the telegram. His spirits rose rapidly
enough now with the prospect of action
before him.
He was certainly off with the old love,
and he was correspondingly eager at this
moment to be on with the new. When our
feelings are deeply stirred so that the crust
of repression is rudely broken, it is then that
the fighting instinct invariably comes to
the top. Dick knew nothing of war, with
its daily crop of agonies, and the weariness
of body and spirit that comes to all in the
protracted campaign. He welcomed the
idea of fighting as a new distraction, and
hugged the thought that the path of duty
should for once lead so absolutely in the
direction he most desired.
As he turned from reading the paper,
the WeBt-End offices of the Shipping Com-
pany were facing him.
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A SURPRISE 173
He liked the sign-posts of life to point
the road clearly ; it saved so much anxious
thought, and, in hunting parlance, pre-
vented him making bad turns. The next
move was quite clear — to book his passage
before the crowd came to take every avail-
able berth for months. This he lost no
time in doing, and was lucky enough to
find room in a steamer leaving at once.
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CHAPTER XVI
WAB
" What was the end of all the show,
Johnnie, Johnnie ?
Ask my Colonel, for I don't know.
Johnnie, Johnnie, aha !
We broke a King and we built a road ;
A court-house stands where the reg'ment goed,
And the river's clean where the raw blood flowed."
Kipling.
Months had passed since Diek stood on the
pavement of Piccadilly reading Kruger's
"Declaration of War," while enthusiasm
for the fight tingled in every vein.
Much of that enthusiasm had evaporated
in long, arduous marches and in the hideous
cold nights of the veld, when no fires were
possible, and he lay down in his tracks cold
and sick with exhaustion ; only the dogged
determination remained to go on and fight
day by day while life lasted.
Dick had enlisted in a local corps as a
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WAR 175
private, and after monthsof campaigning and
stubborn fighting in Cape Colony , they were
at last over the border on the enemy's soil.
Promotion comes quickly when the corps
is in action every other day, and the Boer
marksmen had taken a disastrous toll of
the officers, so that in due time Dick was
offered a commission.
Although his apprenticeship had been
short, it had certainly been a very active
one, and he felt he was justified in accepting
the increased responsibility.
They had been fighting a matter of skir-
mishes for some days, and the Boers had
been steadily retreating before their ad-
vance. Now they had come to what was
certainly a prepared position. Scouts that
had come in reported it as a series of en-
trenchments strongly held, so that the
field artillery was called up to shell the
trenches for some hours before the inevit-
able frontal attack of our men.
Dick's company were lying under cover
of a line of rocks and loose boulders, waiting
the order to advance up that awful hill of
loose stones. A dreadful climb, without
any cover, save fifty yards from the ridge
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176 WITHYFORD
a low wall which was to form their
rallying point for a final rush on the
trenches — an innocent-looking barren hill
it looked, without a sign of life, and the
shrapnel swept and searched the ridge
without producing any apparent effect.
Dick cautiously raised his head above
the wall to reconnoitre, and more easily
to watch the shells bursting, A bullet
splashed on the rock six inches from his
helmet. He hastily bobbed under cover,
where he remained. For some moments
he resisted an inclination to look again over
the wall; an intuitive feeling seemed to
warn him that he was being waited for, but
these intuitive feelings are apt to grow and
become a nuisance, so he repressed it, but
this time he took off his helmet, and very
slowly raised his head.
There was a fizz and something of a quick
shock, and his hand went up to his forehead.
" It's through yer 'air, sir," said a Tommy.
Still the shells went screaming over their
heads on their mission, and there was no
doubt the guns had got the range to a
fraction. One of the men in his admiration
raised himself in a stooping position to
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WAR 177
watch, but quickly dropped again. It was
a moment before they found he was dead.
" 'Struth, but if I ever get among 'em in
that trench," said his comrade, Stumps.
" You've got a bloomin' 'ill to climb fust,"
said Bill Jones the Lawyer. Bill Jones
was called the " Lawyer," because in
moments of tension he was wont to argue.
If he could not find anyone to argue with,
he argued with himself. Thus he went on.
" Yus," he said, " there's the bloomin'
'ill, and there's more where that one
comes from. Climb and bleed, there's
your dooty. Then, when it's all over,
and there is nothing left of yer but a soup-
bone, they'll 'and the country back to the
Boers." "'Struth," said the indignant
Stumps.
" Silence there !" said Dick.
Shells still whistled overhead ; hour after
hour the men lay waiting. At last the
1 welcome order came, and they leapt up
and scrambled to the attack in open order.
Each one taking whatever cover he could,
they came on in short rushes.
The guns redoubled the efforts to keep
down the fire on the ridge. There was
12
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178 WTTHYFORD
nothing to be seen and nothing to shoot at,
only death was meted out freely by unseen
hands; ballets pattered and rattled in
volleys <$j* Jhe stones. Men were falling
right and left; men sprawled, their rifles
clattered over the rocks ; men spun round
and fell; men sank, shrieking in agony.
No one heeded, the line swept on, in align-
ment wavy and irregular, but still some-
thing of a line.
" 'Struth !" said Stumps, as lie reached
the welcome shelter of the wall.
" Give this country back ! Keep your
breath," said his chum. " 'Tain't fifty
yards to the trench."
" Lor !" he exclaimed, " why don't some
one stop the guns ; they are going to shell
us."
A shell at that moment burst overhead.
" The blind fools, can't they see us," said
the candid Stumps. This was no place to
linger, and the order was promptly given
to charge. Dick led his men over the
wall, and with fixed bayonets they rushed
the distance.
For one instant the rifle-fire in front was
appalling, and as the shells were still
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WAR 179
bursting overhead our own men fell quickly,
as many from the shrapnel as from the
enemy's fire in front.
There was every inducement, as Bill
Jones remarked afterwards, to get inside
the Boer trench.
Dick was five yards from the trench, and
his revolver about emptied, when a Boer
raised his rifle. At that moment Dick
received a violent blow on his leg, and he
pitched forward on his face. Another
spasm like a hot iron went through his
body, and then, amid the cheers of the men
as they cleared the trench, he seemed to
lose all consciousness. His next sensation
was of being hurt. Shadowy forms were
bending over him, and he felt the binding
of tight bandages, and the nozzle of a
flask jarred against his front teeth ; then
followed endless jolting and more pain, and
he dimly recognized the white-covered
wagon ; then all was a blank.
When he awoke again his first sensation
was of comfort. He felt the white sheets.
He had known them at some time; why
had he missed them ? The effort was too
great to think, and his mind fell into
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180 WTTHYFORD
vacancy again. As he lay still, with half-
shut eyes, a vision of the face he loved
was standing before him. He knew it
must be just a trick, and if he moved it
would vanish, so he was just content to
keep quite still and gaze. Then he thought
he must have fallen asleep, for when he
awoke the vision was still before him, only
this time it was bending over him — the
same sweet face with an expression of
infinite pity. He remembered seeing a
large tear start from the grey eyes till it
ran into the dark, curled lashes ; he watched
it, hardly thinking it concerned him till
it fell. That was real, anyhow, and he
moved. The vision fled. He raised his
head only to feel an agonizing stab of
pain through his whole frame, and he
nearly swooned.
" You mustn't move or excite yourself,"
said the doctor ; " you've got it rather
badly."
" Am I going under, doc. ?" he muttered.
" No, my boy," was the cheery response,
" not this time. We cure them everywhere
now, except through the heart, and you
are heart-whole, I guess. Now go to sleep."
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WAR 181
Dick closed his eyes to try and slumber,
when he caught something of a whispered
consultation between the doctor and the
nurses which was by no means reassuring,
but was too weak to be anything but
indifferent, and dozed off again.
Poor Stumps was within a mere matter
of paces from the trench in which he so
ardently sought revenge for his comrade
when the last shell burst, and our shrapnel
showered down bullets on the sons of the
empire. It was true the officer in command
nearly lost his reason when he realized the
blunder, but that didn't save Stumps ;
he was struck down under the hail of
bullets. His pals soon got him down to
the surgeon. There Stumps lay very
patiently while his awful wounds were
bandaged. He asked that his empty pipe
might be put in his face, as he termed it,
and in his agony he splintered the mouth-
piece while they ripped off the khaki drills.
" Doctor, sir," he confided, in a calmer
moment later, "I got it this time; but
don't tell none of my pals I'm dying, will
you, sir ? They'd take it to 'eart like."
The doctor passed his hand over his eyes
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182 W1THYF0RD
as though in pain himself, and then he
pressed Stumps' s hand reassuringly.
"An' doctor, sir," he went on, "there
ain't nothing in what Bill Jones was saying
this morning about it all being given back
to the Boers afterwards ?"
" No," he said smilingly, " rest assured
of that. No Government would live five
minutes that proposed it."
" That's right, sir, not live five minutes.
Struth, 'ow I've bled," said Stumps, as
he viewed the now brown soaked khaki.
Then Stumps sighed, and was still. The
doctor got up to go. Private Stumps had
died for his country.
When Dick awoke his eyes sought some-
thing and found it apparently, but his
reason was stronger this time, and he meant
to know more. There she was, sitting quite
close to his bed ; he must be careful- His
helpless anxiety for fear she should vanish
was pathetic. Cautiously he advanced a
hand over the coverlet towards her.
"Dick," said a gentle voice, "do you
know who it is ?"
" Molly," he said, and his mind cleared
in a moment, " tell me why are you here ?"
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WAR 183
But she hastily restrained him, and threat-
ened to leave at once if he was not quiet.
Poor Dick was too weak to argue, and his
excitement had already exhausted him ; his
head rolled back wearily on the pillow. A
cool hand passed soothingly over his brow.
" You must lie quite still," she said, " and
go to sleep ;" and with a feeling of infinite
peace he closed his eyes at her bidding.
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CHAPTER XVII
MOLLY EXPLAINS
" Wayward as the swallow overhead at set of sun,
She whom I love is hard to catch and conquer —
Hard, but, oh, the glory of the winning were she
won !"
George Meredith.
From the day of the solution of the vision
Dick seemed to take a turn for the better,
and after a few days he rapidly regained
strength. One morning the doctor came
to find his patient so much improved that
he even encouraged him to talk.
" It has been a very near shave with you,
my boy," said the doctor, "and I don't
mind telling you so now you are out of
danger; you were lucky enough to fall
into good nursing hands, and to that
nurse's extraordinary devotion to duty you
probably owe your life."
Dick choked something back that seemed
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MOLLY EXPLAINS 185
to clutch at his throat. " Go on," he
said, " tell me all about it."
" Well, to start with, you had got one
in the leg, and you were drilled through
the right lung as well."
" Yes, I remember the leg," said Dick.
" A Boer and I were face to face, but I
think I loosed off first, only a shot got me
in the leg, and I expect I missed, and then
he drilled me."
" That's about it," said the doctor ;
" but when you do mend you will be all
right, so thank your stars and get well."
Molly had watched Dick's rapid progress
eagerly, and every attempt to question
her she had vetoed on the ground that he
was too weak to talk. This evasion she
knew could not shelter her much longer,
and she dreaded the inevitable explanation
he would seek at her hands. For this reason
her manner grew colder, and she found
many ingenious excuses to avoid being
alone in her attendance for one instant.
Dick was puzzled to account for the marked
change in her demeanour towards him.
The doctor had told him of her unremitting
care of his unworthy self, and her aloofness
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186 W1THYF0RD
now only doubled his determination to
seek the first opportunity to speak.
While he was a helpless, bed-ridden
object it was no great testimony to Molly's
diplomacy that no such opportunity was
afforded him. He recognized he was at a
disadvantage, and must wait until he could
get up once more. In his present position
he felt under her dominion, for what is man
without his clothes ? So he bided his time,
and pondered more and more within
himself.
One day, looking back on the bodily and
mental chaos from which he had emerged,
and probing into the recesses of a blurred
memory, he disinterred the item of the
tear. He saw it quite plainly again now,
and the memory of it was destined to puzzle
and even torture him again and again in
the future.
At last the time came when he was
allowed to get up, being well on the road to
convalescence.
Molly had gone out for a little air and
rest in the hospital grounds ; the hard work
and confinement in the wards, the awful
scenes of pain and death, had not been
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MOLLY EXPLAINS 187
without their inevitable effect. She looked
pale and worn. She was sitting on the
long seat which overlooked the sea, and
the expression in her eyes seemed to reflect
the hopeless distance of the vast waters.
A short and rather faltering step seemed
to catch her ear, and she moved her head.
Dick was coming. She turned paler as
she recognized the inevitable. She knew
it was her duty to tell him what he sought
to know, but she dreaded the duty.
" Molly," he said, as he sat beside her,
" I never thanked you, little girl, for saving
my life."
This was not what she expected, and she
bent her head down quickly, but no words
came.
" Molly," he continued rather hoarsely,
" tell me, why are you here ? Where is
Cyrus?"
" Cyrus is at Withyford," said Molly,
" and I ought to tell you at once, Dick, I
am going back next week. I am travelling
with a nurse who is invalided home."
" Won't they let me come too ?" said
Dick.
" lam afraid not," was the reply. " As
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188 WITHYFORD
your nurse," she added, with the flicker
of a smile, "it will be my duty to declare
you are not fit to travel for weeks yet."
" But why go ?" pleaded Dick.
" Because," she said, " I am engaged to
be married, as you know."
" Molly, what made you come away ?"
" You have no right to ask that," she said.
" Now," he whispered eagerly, " look
me in the face, and tell me that you love
him."
" Hush f" she said, " you will make me
angry if you talk like that, but because
there is no mystery about it I will tell you
why I came."
He saw the calm face that had watched
over him all the weeks now still more lovely
in the flush of animation, and he struggled
against an emotion which in his weak con-
dition almost overpowered him. To tell
how he loved her, and had lived with the
image of her in his brain, and how he had
worked and striven to win her love, to tell
all, and then to leave the rest to her mercy —
the inclination was almost irresistible ; only
a sense of what was right held him back.
She was still engaged to Cyrus.
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MOLLY EXPLAINS 189
Was it a brain-wave, or has science a
more subtle explanation ? Only Molly
knew at the moment exactly what was
passing in Dick's mind. She saw the whole
struggle plainly, and the grip with which
he held himself.
To aid him she hurried on her explana-
tion. " Well, Cyrus was frightfully upset,
of course, at my wanting to come out as a
nurse, and I don't think I should have come,
only father tried to hasten the wedding,
to stop what he pleased to term my folly.
" In any case, you see, we were not going
to be married for a year, and I didn't see
why I should not come, and I am afraid I —
I — just came," she added rather meekly.
Dick thought he could read between all
the lines of this domestic story, but as she
was evidently going back to marry Cyrus
there was nothing to be said.
" Has your father made it up ?" faltered
Dick.
" Oh yes, we are quite friends," she said ;
" he writes nearly every mail, and Cyrus
has been so good. He wired an enormous
sum to be put to my credit at the Standard
Bank here. Of course I have not touched
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190 WITHYFORD
it," she added, "as I have really no
expenses."
Dick had been answering mechanically
for some moments, but once started on safe
ground Molly rattled on almost unheeding,
keeping her eyes fixed on the sea in front,
which was easier than meeting his gaze.
Suddenly she became aware that his
silence was rather marked, and she glanced
at him without moving her head. What
she saw horrified her ; he had swooned.
She laid him gently along the seat, and
then darted away into the hospital for
restoratives. It was some moments before
Dick regained consciousness.
" I suppose I fainted," he said.
" Yes," said Molly, " I blame myself for
allowing you to do too much. Now lean on
my arm, and walk slowly back." The way
was quite a good distance for an invalid,
and Dick felt very much an invalid, yet he
would not have shortened that distance by
one step.
The following weeks dragged slowly for
Dick. The doctors held out no hope that
he would be fit to go to the front again until,
at all events, he had been home.
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MOLLY EXPLAINS 191
" If you send me home," said Dick, one
day when he was undergoing one of his
many examinations, " I will never return
to this wretched country any more ; any-
body can have it, for all I care now," he
said bitterly.
" Well, well," said the doctor, " you have
done your duty and something more ; it
is somebody else's turn now." And thus
it was arranged that Dick should go to
England as soon as he was fit to travel.
The illustrated papers and other main-
stays of the convalescent were to be had
in abundance, and Dick spent most of the
weary weeks of waiting in devouring them
from cover to cover.
There was something about the Field
especially that was so peculiarly English
and welcome that he devoured it more
assiduously than the others. He was read-
ing casually the hunting notes, when a
paragraph caught his eye which changed
his whole thoughts, and opened up bright
visions of possibilities.
The note appeared editorial, but it was
no doubt penned by some local follower of
the sport of kings. It was to the effect
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192 WTTHYFORD
that the Withyford country, from a real,
hard, sporting point of view, was unsur-
passed by any other, and it implied that
it was something of a reproach that the
mastership of the Withyford foxhounds
should remain vacant. On the absence of
subscriptions it was judiciously silent.
The subscription part was no object to
Dick now, and in his enthusiasm he nearly
wired.
He was almost certain he knew the writer
of the paragraph, and so he sat down and
wrote to the Squire a long letter, telling
him of his new fortune, and asking for
further particulars and advice on the
subject of hounds.
This letter amassed the worthy Squire
considerably. He had heard a great deal
about Dick from Molly, but she had told
him nothing of Dick's altered circumstances,
for the simple reason that Dick had said
nothing to her whatever on the subject.
This new turn of fortune's wheel troubled
the Squire considerably ; he more than sus-
pected Molly cared for Dick, and he bitterly
regretted his own interference.
He read Dick's letter over and over, and
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MOLLY EXPLAINS 193
the more he pondered on his mistake the
more exasperated he became. Here was
Dick with a fortune — a son-in-law after his
own heart. Well, there was nothing to be
done now, he reflected. Matters must take
their course ; only he determined to interfere
no more.
There was one item of consolation — the
hounds, which years ago had been his, were
no longer in danger of being sold for want
of a master. He wrote Dick a letter full
of congratulations and advice, urging him
to lose no time, but to come straight to
Withyf ord when he landed ; meantime the
new mastership should be held in abeyance.
This letter reached Dick just as he em-
barked for home, and the glowing prospects
set forth in it added new zest to his exist-
ence.
13
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CHAPTER XVIII
THE DERBY
" As merry as a saddling bell."
Instead of going straight down to Withy-
ford on his arrival home Dick decided to
go up to town for a few days, if only for
the reason that his wardrobe required a
complete re-stocking, and so he wrote to
the Squire, and asked for a few days' grace.
The Squire had written that there was no
actual hurry, as he felt the new master was
a thing assured. Accordingly, Dick moved
into rooms in Jermyn Street. The novelty
of London always interested him for a little
while; then the boredom of the eternal
pavements became insupportable, and he
invariably fled again with relief to the
country.
It seemed ages now since he had strolled
down the shady side of Piccadilly, and it
194
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THE DERBY 195
was with something of affection he viewed
the well-known scenes. Among his corre-
spondence awaiting him at the club was a
characteristic letter from Cyrus, full of
congratulation on his recovery and return ;
he also went on to say he was putting four
horses together to drive to the Derby, and
that he hoped Dick would consent to be
one of the passengers. Dick pondered this
over for some time, and then decided there
was really no reason why he should not
accept. Of course Molly would be there,
but he must get accustomed to meeting her
at some time, he reflected. On the day
fixed he accordingly found himself seated
on a well-appointed coach, with Cyrus on
the box and Molly by his side. Among
the party he was rather surprised to find
Mrs. Sanderson, and also his old fellow-
passenger Colonel Ward. However, he re-
flected, the latter gentleman would surely
take the pretty widow off his hands, and
thus allow him to devote all his attention
to the racing.
Summer seemed to have arrived with this
first Wednesday in June, and the sunshine
was bright even in London, so that the
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196 WTTHYFORD
shadows from the houses were sharply
defined across the streets. Cyrus's free-
stepping bay horses soon rattled them out
of the city into the more open suburbs,
and once free of the smoke-laden haze a
glorious sky was revealed, flecked with the
fleecy clouds of June that only intensified
the blue.
Some showers in the night had laid the
dust, and the odour of the hedges laden
with may was wafted on the south-west
breeze.
Before reaching Epsom, now fast losing
its individuality in a sea of villas, they
turned from the main road to avoid the
congested traffic of the town, and then,
crossing the course at Tattenham Corner,
made their way over to the hill.
To Cyrus, who had never before seen a
Derby, the scene came as a revelation.
The incongruity of the seething crowd and
the lovely surroundings amazed him.
Dick took him down to the paddock,
where he had to fight his way through the
well-dressed crowd of the enclosure. The
other side of the fence, knee-deep in
buttercups, cows unconcernedly chewed the
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THE DERBY 197
cud of their reflections in the thorn-fringed
meadows of the Durdans.
Far away in the distance was the little
spire of Headley Church, like a shrine in
the woods ; and beyond that, over the dark
line of yew-trees, lies a lovely group of
long-forgotten downs and heaths — once a
famous training-ground, now given to
rabbits and rock-roses. Here it was that
the great Blair Athol lived and was trained
in his giant stride.
In a corner of the paddock the crowd
was packed trying to get a glimpse at the
Derby favourite. By pressing and peering
between the forest of top-hats Dick could
just make out the long quarters and
muscular gaskins of the great horse, whose
record was hitherto one of unbroken
victory.
A smaller knot of disciples pressed their
flattering attentions round the second
favourite, the Minstrel, and it was easier
to get a complete view of this marvellous
little horse.
In the first glance it was clear he was a
full hand smaller than his great antagonist.
" Outclassed," was Cyrus's comment.
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198 WITHYFORD
" I am not so sure," said Dick ; " re-
member he, too, has never been beaten, and
has sixteen races to his credit."
"These two have never met, I under-
stand," said Cyrus,
" No," said Dick, " they haven't, and it
will be a great race,"
As the numbers went up for the first race
on the card, the bell tolled to clear the
course.
"That's my luncheon bell," said Cyrus
facetiously ; " and it's about as welcome as
the cuckoo in April, so let us get back to
the coach."
" Now, where have you men been to ?"
said Mrs. Sanderson.
" We've been to look at the horses," said
Cyrus, "and they have given me an
appetite for lunch."
" WeU, it's aU ready," she said.
" Let me give you some of this mayon-
naise," said Cyrus ; and so the alfresco meal
began, merrily punctuated by the popping
of corks.
" Well," said Cyrus, " I have read some-
where that * Sweet champagne maketh man
to plunge, and lobster salad is a dangerous
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THE DERBY 199
thing,' but I am going to have a trifle on
that big horse when I have finished my
lunch."
" You won't get much of a price about
him," said Dick ; " try a sporting fiver on
the little one. If he doesn't win you will
get a run for your investment."
"They mostly do, my investments,"
said Cyrus.
" By the by, I don't think much of the
track," he remarked ; " the grass is velvet,
I grant you, but it is all too switchback."
" All the better," said Dick ; " they can't
come down and round that corner with no
shoulders, and the climb up to the hill will
test the other end, so you must have a horse
with two ends if he is to win on the Derby
course."
Luncheon had just drawn leisurely to
its close, and Cyrus had lighted what he
termed a handsome torch, when the warn-
ing notes of the bell rang out to clear the
course for the Derby.
The ladies decided to view the race from
the coach, and Colonel Ward mounted
guard willingly. This left Cyrus and Dick
free to see the race from the stand, and
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200 WITHYFORD
they lost no time in making their way
down the course.
Already squadrons of police with a rope
were walking in line clearing people back to
the rails.
" All off the course !" they shouted in
chorus, while the din of the crowd and the
shouting of the bookmakers clashed in a
volume of bewildering discord.
If it was hard work moving in the
paddock it was still more difficult to make
one's way down the course against the
stream of people fleeing from the inexorable
approach of the police squadron.
At last they reached the shelter of the
stand, and although very full, there was at
least^breathing - space, and, moreover, a
clear view from Tattenham Corner down to
the winning-post.
They were only just in time, as all passage
across the course was stopped. Presently
a yellow jacket on a black horse flashed
in front of the stand, followed by a blue-and-
white striped one on a chestnut.
The roar of the crowd, hushed for an
instant, broke out afresh as the favourite,
with the demon jockey up, swept leisurely
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THE DERBY 201
over the grass in a lazy, swinging stride;
then followed three or four more in rapid
succession, and, last of all, came the
Minstrel, whose jockey wore the sky-blue
jacket and cap.
A cheer went up from the crowd as the
little horse bent his neck to the rein and
sped up the course.
As he moved it became apparent from
the way he got his fore-feet out that the
pace came from the oblique shoulders.
No doubt that extra few inches in front
told its tale in the long run.
Once more the brilliant field swept past
the stand, and then made their way across
the downs to the starting-point.
The crowd was packed like a wall on
each side of the course, and the green glade
was clear, save for the thin blue line of
policemen, stretching away to Tattenham
Corner.
" They're off !" said some one, but the
bell didn't ring.
" False start," said the man who was
watching through his glasses.
The bookmakers availed themselves of the
prolonged tension to redouble their shouts.
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202 WTTHYFORD
Suddenly the roar of the crowd subsides
to ahum*
They are off this time, and the plaintive
note of the big bell confirms it. A pack
of gaudy-coloured silks are seen to sweep
through the furze on the horizon.
They are making the pace a cracker, and
before one can realize it they are coming
down to the descent of Tattenham Corner
at a headlong drive.
Only those who have raced round this
historic corner can fully realize the severe-
ness of the test, and the danger that the
horse may change his leg in the ordeal.
On they come, and the thunder of their
hoofs may be heard as they come into the
straight, while a thin roll of dust is seen
hammered out of the turf at their feet.
As they commence the rise to the stand
two horses shoot out from the field. The
favourite is easily recognized ; he has been
lying close to the rails all round the bend,
and at his girths now gallops the game little
Minstrel.
The demon jockey wakes up his mount in
alarm, but the Minstrel is not to be denied,
and the battle of the giants has begun.
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THE DERBY 203
Both jockeys have their whips going,
and the two leaders have raced right away
from their field in the grim struggle.
As the pair approach the stand neck and
neck, the disparity in their size appears
almost ludicrous.
" 'Tain't 'ardly fair," said an enthusiastic
booky. Then the cry goes up : " The
favourite's beat !"
So close is the race that at the angle
at which it is viewed from the stand it is
impossible to tell which has the advantage,
but the unerring judge at the post is
in a better position, and gives it to the
favourite.
" Whew !" said Cyrus, " now if I am not
glad I backed that other horse."
" I am afraid you've lost," said Dick.
"I know," was the reply, "but I feel
I did the right thing by that little horse."
" He is real sand, or I never saw it."
" I guess I can't stand any more races
after that," he said ; " they might spoil it."
The crowd now converged from all points
to see the favourite led back, and Cyrus
and Dick took the opportunity to make their
way up the course and back to their coach.
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204 WITHYFORD
Afternoon coffee was being brewed for
the ladiee, but Cyrus for his part thought
the occasion merited a different kind of
refreshment, the nature of which was
indicated by the explosion of a cork. He
held up the beaker of bubbling wine
against the blue sky for an instant, and
then solemnly drank to the horse that had
lost him his fiver.
After coffee was served the hampers
were packed, and the word given for home.
Cyrus, meanwhile, was superintending the
final arrangements. First, the coach had
settled in the grass, and he had it moved
out of the rut before the horses were put
in ; the neglect of this little precaution,
he knew, often meant snapped traces and
a very bad start. As it was, he scarcely
relished getting four horses to go into their
cold collars at a walk up the grass hill in
the traffic.
If he had never attained great distinction
in the saddle there was no doubt he was
quite at home on the box. He sat there
like a workman till he saw his chance and
a clear space before him, when he gave the
order to let them go, and was up the worst
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THE DERBY 205
part of the hill at a trot ; once over the tan
the road was clear, and the four bays bowled
along merrily.
Dick had hardly exchanged a word with
Molly all day. It was clearly not his
province, he thought, to entertain her ;
once or twice he had caught her expression
in repose, and did not think she looked
altogether as happy as the occasion war-
ranted. On the journey home Mrs. Sander-
son kept him fully occupied in a flow of
small talk and tender memories, during
which time the Colonel obviously sulked, to
Dick's intense amusement.
Mrs. Sanderson was certainly in good
vein, and the journey had seemed all too
short as the coach bowled along West-
minster, and then up the broad North-
umberland Avenue ; here Dick took his
farewell of the party, and thus ended a
memorable Derby day for them all.
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CHAPTER XIX
THE NEW M.P.H.
" When the clouds idly float in November,
You're longing to feel once again
The stride of a thoroughbred hunter,
The sweet give-and-take on the rein."
A. O. P.
" Yes, Mary, I'll tell un if I meets un
there, but I can't hunt about heaven for
un with me sore legs." Two elderly
sisters of Devon were debating their bad
health with melancholy resignation, when
their forebodings were broken in upon by
the clamour of deep-toned hounds.
In a moment the alarming symptoms
were forgotten, and they hobbled down
their garden-path at a pace which showed
the conveniently intermittent nature of
the malady.
The coomb which was so suddenly ringing
and echoing with the cry of hounds was as
quickly left silent again, a silence that
206
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THE NEW M.F.H. 207
seemed heavier for being broken. Pre-
sently down the steep came the clatter
of flying stones to the galloping feet of two
horses squeezed down the path at a pace
beyond their natural discretion.
For an instant the huntsman pulled up
to listen, and his beast's heaving sides and
twitching tail told of the severity of the
pace.
" Where be un to ?" said he, diverting a
jet of perspiration on his face with the
back of the hand that held the horn.
" They be gone up over," screeched the
ancient dame.
Dick, in the pride of his new rdle of
M.F.H., had brought hounds out on the
quiet in the early morning with the
laudable idea of blooding the new entry
with a cub, and this duty he had wisely
entrusted to the old huntsman.
In the long chain of woods with dense
covers in thick leaf it was impossible to
get to hounds or even see them at times,
and the puppies took full advantage of
the situation. After running riot on the
small fauna of the wood in all directions,
they had got together, and, with a unani-
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208 WTTHYFORD
mity worthy of a better cause, settled down
on a line which filled the huntsman's
mind with suspicion. Dick accordingly
started away at a break-neck gallop to stop
the leading hounds before they crossed the
coomb. In this, however, he was too late,
as hounds had crossed the bottom and,
according to their informant, "gone up
over."
A friendly farmer, who had headed more
foxes than any man in the country, for
once turned his talents to good account,
and stopped the hounds at the top. The
farmer had got a view of the quarry, and
confirmed their worst suspicions by shouting
down:
" T'es a hind with a c-a-a-lf afoot."
44 Pretty bad start," muttered Dick.
Then the huntsman turned, and blew
long trembling blasts on his horn, that
tingled on your stirrup-iron, and crept
their way in gooseflesh up your back.
One by one hounds returned with loll-
ing tongues, and flopped down on their
haunches with an air of resignation to
await the others ; only the sobbing catches
of their breath filled the silences between
Digitized by VjOOQIC
THE NEW M.F.H. 209
the wild remonstrating notes of that
horn.
44 Ye're, Dahlia, big enough for my second
horse/ 9 added the huntsman as the last
hound joined the group, and then the word
was given for home.
Dick was supremely happy in the pos-
session of the old pack, and for the last
three months he had regularly exercised
them himself in the cool of the early hours ;
for he intended, when he knew the difficult
country better, to carry the horn himself.
He had been lucky enough to secure a
small house named Oakwood close to the
kennels, which answered admirably all his
bachelor requirements; and he was now
learning that to maintain a pack of hounds
brings multifarious duties with it, and
leaves little leisure or inclination for minor
matters.
Much of his time was spent in the kennels,
and although at first he unconsciously
sought the windward side of the boiler-
house, in time he grew even indifferent to
the odours of the cuisine and larder.
Dick was quite aware that his present
hounds were not fast enough, and he
14
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210 WITHYFORD
intended to draft from the bottom and not
from the top. One of his chief differences
with the old huntsman was on this point,
the old man favouring the throaty, blood-
hound style, a type which Dick con-
temptuously referred to as a live-on-his-line-
all-day-and-lose-him-in-the-dark-sort of
hound.
This, no doubt, had been the secret of
the long runs of the pack, and the com-
plaints of the paucity of foxes handled.
This reproach he determined to eliminate
by judicious breeding for pace as well as
nose, and, indeed, the country generally
carried a scent. What was more par-
ticularly required, he found, was a hound
that would give tongue in the thick woods,
and all these virtues he was striving to blend
into his new pack.
In the midst of his happiness the thought
of Molly would intrude at times, and although
he resolutely put it from him it returned ;
and the realization of his loss would haunt
him in some defenceless moments of the
night.
He had seen her occasionally, but little
or nothing had passed between them.
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THE NEW M.F.H. 211
It was in the nature of a shock one
morning, when, on opening a letter from
the old Squire, he found it contained an
invitation to Molly's wedding at Withyford
Church, and the date fixed was barely a
fortnight hence. " Well, it had to be,"
he reflected, as he stuck the card into the
edge of the looking-glass ; but as that last
drop of gruel is optional he soliloquized :
" I will have an engagement in town on
the wedding-day."
Unfortunately, only three days before the
wedding was to take place, he had fixed the
first cubbing meet of the season, and as
many friends were coming to support the
new master he felt bound to appear on that
occasion. Otherwise his inclination would
have been to get away at once where he
would hear no reference to the approaching
event. He knew full well the country-side
would be talking of little else, and it would
be impossible for him to avoid altogether
the important topic.
Nor was he left in doubt on this point,
for on going to the kennels for distraction
the very kennelman ventured to remark
that the wedding had been fixed, and that
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212 WITHYFORD
his little girl was asked to scatter flowers
in the path of the bride, and might he have
some flowers from the house, etc.
Day after day people met him with smil-
ing faces, and discussed the wedding with
him, and even asked him if he did not think
Miss Farquharson was singularly fortunate*
So ingenious seemed the torture meted
out to him that in the solitude of his room
poor Dick bowed his head in misery.
He was determined to get away directly
after cubbing, and his unhappiness was
tempered to some extent by the near
approach of his first day's mastership in
the field. It is those first days that mark
like mile-stones the happy events of our
lives, from the first grouse to the first kiss ;
or perhaps the order should be reversed in
an apt pupil, but, in whatever rotation
they come, those first days are the ones
clearly defined when looking back into the
haze which cloaks the receded years.
Dick certainly grew excited over his first
appearance in the field as master, and the
day before he carefully went through the
pack, and chose his hounds for the morrow.
The handiest of the young Entry were
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THE NEW M.F.H. 213
picked, and the most reliable of the veterans
were all included — hounds that could be
trusted to put a puppy to shame who dared
to give tongue on the line of a hare.
Although some of the old ones who ought to
know better were not above snapping up a
rabbit on the sly, they said nothing about
it, and the deed being done in silence no
one was misled by a false tongue.
They were a useful-looking lot, he
thought, and if they didn't stand up on
their feet quite as straight as he would
like, their middles were all right, and they
were good, deep-chested hounds that could
stay.
Dick had long since decided what he
was going to draw ; he had no wish to
repeat his former experience in the big
woods where the puppies were very difficult
to handle, and either ran riot at leisure or
else hung disconsolately on the heels of his
horse down the drives.
He had heard of a litter of cubs in the
open common, and they now lay up in the
gorse patches which he thought would be
an easy cover to draw. H the puppies
were inclined to hunt rabbits, instant satis-
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214 WITHYFORD
faction could be administered in full view
of the field.
It was raining softly as he looked out
into the night before retiring, a fact which
argued well for the morrow's sport. His
clothes were carefully chosen — an old pink
coat for the benefit of hounds, for he knew
in their canine minds it is the emblem of
authority ; boots, however, were not de
rigueur for cubbing, and he choose a pair of
tan gaiters, as sufficiently unstudied for
an undress affair.
Having laid these garments out ready
to his satisfaction, and set a mental clock
in his mind to wake punctually at 4.30 a.m.,
he got into bed with ardent hopes of sport
in the morning.
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CHAPTER XX
IT IS THE UNFORESEEN
" The sound of his horn brought me from my bed."
John Ped.
Dick was awake long before the appointed
time — in fact, he had only had snatches of
sleep since two o'clock, when he awoke
with a start, dreaming he had overslept
himself.
His first thought was for the weather,
and he looked out into the grey light of
dawn to find the grass wet with the heavy
dew of early autumn.
Patches showed on the meadow where
the cows had been lying during the night ;
and the breath of the cattle now appeared
as smoke in the cold air mingling with the
vapours of the grass.
It was a good enough morning for
cubbing, with a moisture that might mean
215
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216 WITHYFORD
scent if the sun did not lick it up too soon,
and Dick lost no time in getting on with
his preparations. Whether it was the excite-
ment or the early hour, he couldn't manage
much in the way of breakfast, although his
housekeeper, who had strong convictions
on the evils of morning air on an empty
interior, had provided a most tempting
meal.
He was soon in the saddle with his hounds
all round him in the yard, and now and
again they lifted their voices in a short
paean of praise as they tried to catch their
master's eye.
At last all was ready, and the yard-
gates being thrown wide open the little
cavalcade started out on to the road which
led to the meet. Dick found there were
already a small knot of riders awaiting him,
among whom he noticed was Molly, on
last year's grey colt. He raised his hat,
but remained entrenched in the middle of
his hounds, which precluded Molly from
bringing the colt up to talk even if she had
wished to.
Cyrus was also there, on a new horse,
with which he seemed on very bad terms.
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IT IS THE UNFORESEEN 217
If the rider had meant to talk to his
fiancee, the horse had other views, and
monopolized the conversation together with
Cyrus's entire stock of endearments.
A move was now made to the gorse
patches ; the puppies did not take kindly
to the prickles until it was borne in upon
them that there were rabbits inside, when
all hesitation was thrown to the winds,
and the whips cracked like pistol-shots in
the clear air. At each crack Cyrus's horse
pivoted, grunted, and pawed the air in
his very greenness, till Cyrus wished himself
in bed.
At last the deep notes of an old hound
spoke to the line of the right animal, and
there was a sharp scurry for the field as a
pale cub broke across the common. Hounds
were out of the furze in no time and running
merrily on his line ; down they went into
the big wood, and up the coomb on the
other side where the cub had got to
ground.
The terrier had also gone to ground,*and
much subterranean yapping and scuffling
was heard by the small dismounted field.
Presently the top of an agitated brush
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218 WITHYFORD
appeared. Molly saw it first, and promptly
seized it ; holding it taut she ran her other
hand above his back till she reached the
scruff of his neck, and then held him aloft.
Dick witnessed her action with no little
embarrassment, but in the excitement it
was all so quickly done he could only
compliment her on the achievement.
44 That is not the first fox you have
handled," he remarked.
" Well, as a matter of fact, it is," she said ;
and then added, with a suspicion of archness,
" but I have just finished a complete course
of badger digging."
Dick could only laugh outright at the
naiveness of the confession, and their eyes
met for one instant; and then he turned
to take his hounds back to try for another
cub.
They drew all the surrounding furze in
vain ; the remaining cubs had not waited,
but had made off, doubtless as soon as the
coast was clear.
Cyrus, who had been having a very rough
ride on his new horse, decided it was time for
breakfast ; but Molly and one or two of the
faithful followers of the hunt accompanied
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IT IS THE UNFORESEEN 219
hounds to draw the thickets of the big
wood.
For some time it looked as if they were
again to be disappointed. Hounds drew
on down the wood with never a whimper
to the river at the bottom. They had just
crossed the bed of the stream when an old
hound gave tongue, which rapidly swelled
into a chorus of confirmation.
Molly was in the dried-up river-bed,
picking her way between the rocks and
pools, when the music of hounds sent a
thrill of impatience through the grey colt.
Regardless of everything he reared and
fought for his head to be after the pack ;
there was no time tio choose a place out, and
she put him straight at the steep bank. He
trembled for a moment on the top of the
rotten ground, which gave way under his
hind-feet like loose sand, and then he fell
back with a sickening thump into the
river-bed, and there he lay between two
rocks with all four feet in the air.
Luckily he just missed falling on Molly,
but his haunches lay across her habit, and
thus pinned her down underneath.
Dick saw that when the horse attempted
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220 W1THYFORD
to rise he would inevitably fall back on her.
For a second or two the colt lay and grunted
where he fell, and in a moment Dick had
his stirrup-leather out, and was twisting it
tight round the two hind-legs, and then with
one mighty pull he heaved the flanks over
and set Molly free, and she was up in an
instant. At the same time Dick's feet slipped
on the wet stones, and he fell helplessly
across the animal itself, which was now
struggling and kicking in all directions.
Finally, regaining its feet, the horse clattered
off down the rocky bed of the stream.
Molly stood dazed for some seconds, and
the ground seemed to rise and fall beneath
her; then, with a thrill of horror, she
realized that Dick was lying face down-
wards, quite still where he had fallen.
She stooped down and gently turned him
over on his side. Then, hastily dipping her
handkerchief into the pool, she splashed the
cold water over his forehead and temples ;
the low moan of pain that followed went
to her heart.
The situation frightened her. There was
not a soul in sight, and the wood was as
silent as the city of the dead.
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IT IS THE UNFORESEEN 221
With despair in her heart she shouted
again and again ; the only answer to her
cries was the trickle of the stream as it
hurried over the stones. Then her eye
rested on the horn, which Dick had hastily
tucked into his coat, and, pursing her lips
to the effort, she blew long and loud.
At last there was the sound of galloping
feet, and she blew again and again until
she saw a horseman coming to her help at
a break-neck pace down the steep wood.
With a glow of relief she saw it was the
good Dr. Pakenham, and then she remem-
bered he had been at the meet.
"I met your grey," he said, "and I
have been looking for you."
" Quick," she replied, " he is very bad."
But the doctor was already off his horse,
and feeling the feeble pulse with one hand
while he groped for his brandy-flask with
the other.
" Go," he said, " to the farm up over,
and get some labourers with a hurdle, and
tell them to have a spring-cart ready on
the road."
With a pale, set face Molly started off
on her errand. Luckily she found the men
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222 W1THYF0RD
at home, working in the barn. Three
stalwart hands started off with a wattle
hurdle, while a fourth got a trap ready to
await them on the road.
Molly found Dick had come to ; the
brandy had done its work, and the doctor
had utilized the time in making rough
bandages and splints to lessen the agony of
removal.
" What is it ?" said Molly in breathless
apprehension.
" Concussion and ribs," was the reply,
" and what besides I cannot yet say."
Cautiously they raised him, and only the
stifled moans told of the pain he endured.
Once on the hurdle with a coat under his
head he seemed easier, and carefully they
carried him through the wood to the cart,
where they laid him flat on the floor with
as many rugs under him as they could
muster.
"Now, Miss Farquharson, you must go
home," said the doctor. " You have done all
you can, and I have already sent the whip
forward to get all ready at Oakwood, and
to ride on and get the village nurse till I
can get one down from Bristol."
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IT IS THE UNFORESEEN 223
" I will send one of these men home with
you, and will come myself this afternoon
and report."
With this promise Molly was obliged to
rest content, and she turned with hurried
steps to walk in the direction of the Dower
House.
She had been up since five o'clock, and
had had little or nothing to eat ; the sun
was now high overhead and scorching hot,
so that she felt giddy and faint, but she
firmly refused any escort, as it was only a
mile to walk, and set out at the fastest pace
she could manage in her tight riding-boots.
Great tears gathered fast in the sweet
grey eyes, and the corners of her lips
twitched with the suppression of feelings
she dared not yield to. Walking almost
like one in a trance she went straight to her
father's study ; he rose from his chair
at the sight of her, and then, for the first
time in her life, Molly fainted right away.
She would have fallen, but the old Squire
was quick, and caught her in time. Ten-
derly taking her in his strong arms he laid
her on the soft couch, and then in his own
matter-of-fact way he swiftly mixed a
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224 WITHYFORD
strong drink and administered it with a
spoon to her lips. The colour came quickly
back to her cheeks as he fanned her face
with an old Indian fan he snatched from
behind the looking-glass.
Suddenly her eyes opened, and she
quickly raised herself on one elbow.
" He saved my life," she uttered, " and
now he is killed. Oh, father, go at once !"
" lie down, my dear," he said, " and
tell me quietly all about it. Who was it ?"
" Dick," she said. " He saved me, and
the horse kicked him again and again.
Father, go to him ; they have taken him
home."
The Squire was more shocked than he
would care to admit, and so for the time
being he expressed his feelings with energy
on the bell-rope, till Molly's old nurse
hurriedly appeared in answer to the peals.
Having given her full instructions in a
tone that suppressed her natural curiosity,
he went out to the stable, and ordered the
dog-cart round at once.
He gathered from Molly's disjointed
account that Dick in any case was seriously
hurt, and the grave expression with which
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IT IS THE UNFORESEEN 225
the usually jolly doctor greeted him when
he got to the house confirmed his worst
fears.
" Is he bad ?" said the Squire.
The doctor inclined his head, but said
nothing until he had shut the door ; then
he went on to explain that two ribs were
fractured badly with a kick, and there
must have been an ugly blow on the head,
probably done with the back of the hoof
in the horse's struggles to get up.
" How is he now ?" asked the Squire.
" Asleep," said the doctor, " by the
mercy of morphia/ 5
" Is he in danger ?" asked the Squire
anxiously.
" No inflammation has set up yet," was
the reply, " and I hope it won't. And now
I am going home to breakfast."
" It is rather late," rejoined the Squire ;
" my lunch will be just ready. Come home
with me in the cart."
" Thanks," was the answer, " I shall be
only too pleased, for I promised to see
Miss Molly after I had got Foster home,
and could tell her more."
" That fits in very well," said the Squire,
15
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226 WTTHYFORD
" because I want you to have a look at
her ; she fainted right away in my room
when she got home."
"I don't wonder," added the doctor,
" after all she went through ; but she didn't
faint when there was anything to be done,
or poor Foster would have been in a bad
way."
Molly heard the wheels of the cart return,
and just as the good doctor was settling
down to a well-earned lunch she entered
the dining-room.
She wouldn't hear of his stopping, how-
ever, and made him go on with the meal
while he told her something of the injury,
and that there was no immediate danger.
Her nursing experience told her that the
critical time would not be reached for
three days, and this the doctor admitted;
and then, too late, he remembered the
day of her wedding.
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CHAPTER XXI
IN WHICH CYBTJS KNOWS
" There's a wedding at nine,
And the village bells chime."
Old Song.
News of the accident spread until it became
the uppermost topic in the country-side,
and even the engrossing interest in the
wedding was checked for the moment ; for
Dick was a very popular sportsman, and
many of the inhabitants had known him in
the hunting-field from a boy.
Cyrus was deeply concerned at the news,
and came post-haste to see Molly the
instant it reached him. Molly received him
in her little boudoir, where she was wont
to retire when she wished to be quite
alone, and there she sat at her writing-
table, surrounded by photographs of her
pet friends, chiefly schoolgirls. It was a
227 15—2
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228 WTTHYFORD
pathetic little room, and the sweet person-
ality of the owner seemed to pervade it.
As she rose Cyras took both her hands.
" Thank goodness," he said, " you are all
right."
" Yes," she said, " I am all right ; he
saved my life." Then she paused. " Cyrus,"
she breathed, "the doctor tells me the
critical time is in three days, and to think
that he may die " — the tears were falling
silently now. " That was to be our wedding-
day," she went on, and eyes that were
filled with tears looked pleadingly into
his.
Cyrus gazed, and he read in her eyes the
confirmation of all his fears during the last
few months that she was secretly unhappy.
It took him but a moment to realize this ;
he saw it all plainly now.
There was a long silence, and then :
*' Molly," he said, " I have been an awful
fool, but I am not quite blind, I guess.
Poor little woman !" he added. " He will
pull through all right, and J — well, I shall
be in America before he is about again."
" Cyrus," she pleaded, " do say you
forgive me ;" and she in turn clasped both
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IN WHICH CYRUS KNOWS 229
his hands, and her lips quivered in distress
as she uttered the words.
For answer he stooped and kissed her
forehead.
" God bless you, Molly," he said, and
in a moment the door was shut, and the
sound of his footsteps had died away down
the corridor.
The Squire was perfectly astounded when
Cyrus took him on one side, and told him
briefly what had taken place ; it was what
he had long suspected in his heart of hearts,
and yet the realization of it was none the
less a shock to him.
" I want you to attend to the cancelling
of the invitations for me," he said. " I
am right sorry, Squire, to leave you to bear
the brunt of it all ; but I am best out of the
way, I feel, and shall sail as soon as I can."
The Squire wrung his hand in silence ; for
the moment he felt overpowered.
Soon the report that the approaching
wedding would not take place set the
whole country-side talking. Some said
that the bride was seriously ill, the result
of the accident; and this view gained
credence from the fact that Molly did
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230 WITHYFORD
not leave her room, and would see no one.
Others, less charitable, surmised that Cyrus
had failed and fled to America. Only the
good doctor knew, and he held his tongue.
Dick's sound constitution once more
stood him in good stead in turning the
corner of his illness, but Dr. Pakenham
was far from satisfied with his listless
condition.
He puzzled the matter out, and came to
the conclusion that his patient required
rousing, and he determined to administer
a mental tonic.
One morning when Dick was lying in his
usual attitude of depression, mechanically
staring at the wall-paper, the doctor quietly
entered his room. For a big man it was
wonderful how he could cross a room
without the least vibration, whereas the
maid who cleared away the breakfast-
things made the boards creak, and the very
window-panes re-echoed her footsteps.
" Well," said the doctor, " how is the
pulse this morning ?" Dick with apparent
indifference presented a wrist. " Ye-es,"
hummed the doctor, " a little feeble still ;"
then he went on casually to remark that
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IN WHICH CYRUS KNOWS 231
he had been dining with the Squire the
evening before. " Just he and I together,
and we talked over old times far into the
night. I did not see Miss Molly."
" I suppose/' said Dick, and a pale,
wintry smile shone for one moment on his
face, " that she will continue for all time
to be still ' Miss Molly, 9 in this village at
all events."
" Curious thing about that wedding,"
said the doctor, ignoring this last remark.
" What wedding ?" said Dick, beginning
to be interested.
" Why, Miss Molly's, of course ; you
didn't know it was all broken off ?"
" Broken off !" repeated Dick, raising
himself in bed. The pulse was strong
enough now, and the doctor only feared
the tonic was too potent.
"Well," said the doctor kindly, "you
have been very ill, you know ; and I gave
strict instructions to the nurse that you
were to be kept absolutely quiet, and no
local news whatever was to be discussed
in your presence. You never quite know,"
he added, " what will agitate a patient in
those circumstances." And Dick could
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232 WITHYFORD
have sworn there was something of a
twinkle agitating the crow's-feet in the
corner of the doctor's eye at that moment.
When he had gone Dick did not again
turn his face to the wall, but his eyes
sought the open window where the sun
shone, and looking between the branches
of the overhanging oak he could see the
blue sky beyond.
Molly continued to shut herself up all
day in the house until she was in danger of
becoming seriously ill. Under these cir-
cumstances the Squire thought it better
she should go away for an entire change,
and somewhat to his surprise Molly readily
fell in with the suggestion.
Her aunt in Queen's Gate was only too
pleased to welcome her, and she accordingly
started for London on a visit of indefinite
duration.
Dick found the convalescence the most
tedious part of his long illness. On the
days when his hounds had been out he
would have the old huntsman into his
room to give him a detailed account of
each run; and the old man's realistic
recitals of the sport he found infinitely more
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IN WHICH CYRUS KNOWS 233
diverting than the most polished diction
of the accomplished novelist.
When the old man warmed to his story,
Dick imagined himself again in the saddle ;
and the incidents of the run he felt were
real, and they didn't always " kill in the
open " by any means.
At last he was reported as fit to move,
and he chose " Dr. Brighton," as the least
tedious of the English health-resorts.
There, at all events, he could hack out and
take gentle rides on the downs, and so
prepare himself for the long hunting days
in Devonshire.
The weeks slipped by comfortably
enough. Once he had written to Molly to
thank her for all she did at the time of
his accident, and had received a short and
rather formal little note in reply.
Now he was feeling quite fit again he was
determined to return home, especially as
he had gathered from the huntsman's
laboured epistles that the scent was good,
and foxes " terrible plenty."
He had only been home for two or three
days when he casually heard of Molly's
return. The news, simple enough in itself,
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234 WITHYFORD
sent a thrill of excitement through his
whole being; he seemed now face to face
with his future, and he determined to put
it to the test. Prudence suggested a
decent interval ; he could not go and see
her for a day or two ; still, he found the
delay hard to bear. At last one wet after-
noon, when he thought he would find her at
home, he screwed up his courage, and
ordered the cart to drive to the Dower
House.
Yes, Miss Molly was at home, and he
was shown into the drawing-room.
There as he waited he was seized with a
bad attack of nerves. The presumption of
his errand presented itself to him in over-
whelming force ; the silence grew intense,
and the pulsation in his temples sounded
like rushing waters.
It was only in reality a few minutes, yet
it seemed hours in whch he occupied him-
self in recalling the set phrases he had
prepared.
Then suddenly the door opened, and
Molly in all her sweetness was standing
before him holding out her hand.
" Molly," he said.
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IN WHICH CYRUS KNOWS 235
" Dick," she answered.
Then he didn't know exactly how it
came about, but he was holding both hands,
and Molly's eyes were lowered, showing
only the long, black lashes.
" Molly," he said simply, " will you
marry me ?" and the little head inclined
slowly forward in assent till it almost
touched his coat-sleeve.
* Oh, Dick," she said, " and do you really
care for me ?" Then she lifted her eyes to
his face, and seemed content with what
she read there.
His answer was to steal one arm around
her. "There," she said, blushing — "now
there is something I want to ask you."
" Well, what is it ?" he said, releasing
her. . ,
" It is about a lady ; and oh, Dick, did
you really ?"
" Do go on ! Did I really what ?"
" Peed her with a spoon ?" said Molly.
" Mrs. Sanderson, you mean — what non-
sense ! By the by," he added, " she wrote
me from America, where she had met a
friend of ours, who told her all about the
accident."
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236 WITHYFORD
" A noble friend he was, Dick, and I —
I feel I behaved so badly to him ;" and
the sweet face clouded in distress.
" It was not your fault, Molly/' he said ;
" it was just a big mistake, and might have
been a bigger one. And she smiled up at
him in answer.
" Squire," said Dick, as he entered Mr.
Farquharson's sanctum a few minutes later,
" can you spare me a few moments ? 1
want to talk to you."
" Yes, my boy ; I am very pleased to
hear you are all right once more," said he,
rising and shaking Dick heartily by the
hand.
" Well, what I want to know is if you
will have me as a tenant for the Manor ?"
" The Manor !" said the Squire in
astonishment.
" Well, the fact is I ought to have asked
you something else first. I have asked
Molly to marry me, and she has consented,
and now I want your permission."
" Bless you, my boy," said the Squire,
" I am delighted."
Then Molly was fetched, and plans were
discussed for so long that it was too late
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IN WHICH CYRUS KNOWS 237
for Dick to return home in time for dinner,
and he was easily persuaded to stay and
dine just as he was.
Molly, however, found time to array
herself in a bewitching picture-gown of
soft, white satin, and shyly took Dick's
arm as they walked into the dining-room.
" There is one thing," said the Squire,
as he and Dick sat alone over their coffee
after dinner, " you will have to be married
in town. Withyford won't stand another
wedding for a little; and now," he said,
"you go and see Molly in the drawing-
room. I have got some writing to do,
only don't sit up too late if you are both
going out with the stag to-morrow. They
are likely to have a good day."
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CHAPTER XXTT
THE BUN OF THE SEASON
" Where the laughing stream is tumbling as it hurries
to the sea,
There's a stag knee-deep in water, and the hounds
be baying he,
And the stag be gone down under, and his slot be
give to me,
And the laughing stream is bubbling as it tumbles
to the sea."
A, O. P.
In the history of the forest there are often
periods when some particular stag seems
to lead a charmed life, and baffles hounds
and huntsman again and again until almost
an atmosphere of superstition grows up
around him. This was the case with the
old black stag — so called because of a dark
streak of hair down the back of his red-
brown coat.
When he should have been "going
back," by reason of his great age, he still
288
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THE RUN OP THE SEASON 239
carried all his rights on a truly magnificent
head.
It was with something more than his
usual caution the harbourer set about his
preparations for harbouring this extra-
ordinary stag which had outwitted him
again and again.
Luckily a storm before daybreak had
washed the surface of the ground, and
wiped the slate anew for him.
The story that was now written there
was plain — vis., the broad, blunt slot of
the black stag had entered Barnthorn's
wood that morning.
The point now to be ascertained was,
had the stag stayed there, and how much
nearer dare he investigate and make it
good without disturbing the quarry.
There was the slot again, impressed in
the mud that had silted up in the storm
across the path — the same slot with its
blunt toes and broad heel which denotes
both age and size.
There were others there, too — the sharp,
narrow slot of the watchful old hind, and
very similar ones of the young male deer.
In such company the harbourer decided
Digitized by
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240 WITHYFORD
further investigation was too risky, and so
he crept silently back, and made a wide
cast outside the wood to find if the stag
had used any of the exits.
These he examined to his satisfaction
and found nothing ; then he knew the old
black stag was inside, and harboured to a
hundred yards.
The morning advanced with every pros-
pect of sport. Riders from all directions
were making their way to the meet, and
Molly had many kindly greetings as she
jogged her mare slowly along on the
" soft."
Indeed, she was looking her best this
morning. Mounted on the pick of the
stable, she was wearing a new habit, the
lines of which were faultless, while the white-
ness of her perfectly-tied stock contrasted
pleasantly with a face that was sun-kissed, '
and had honest grey eyes with curling,
black lashes.
Sitting well back on her straight saddle,
she looked every inch a " workman," and
there was just that subtle flexion, too, in
her lithe, slim figure that moved in unison
with her horse.
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THE RUN OP THE SEASON 241
Scarcely had she arrived at the thronged
meet when Dick steered his way skilfully
through the crush towards her.
Owing to his having schooled his horse
to rein on the neck he attained a very close
position without any marked effort — so
close that he could talk without being over-
heard. What he said, therefore, must
remain unrecorded, but Molly trifled with
the balance strap of her saddle, a movement
which necessitates a lowering of the head,
and renders a slight heightening of the
colour a natural sequence.
Whatever had been passing was abruptly
ended by the sudden fitful blast of a horn
blown at a gallop.
Dick took his horse short by the head,
and squirmed his way into the lane that
led to the open, and only just avoided
> bumping into Benjamin, who was galloping
back to get the pack out. Molly also made
her way out quickly, and stood with Dick
on the open moor to await events.
The pack was taken out to a point on the
moor where the tufters had been stopped.
There was just a shade of anxiety on
the faces of the field as they watched
16
Digitized by
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242 W1THYF0RD
Benjamin draw his hounds across the line
of the stag, but it was only momentary,
for hounds took up the scent with an
eager chorus of music, wild and ecstatic,
that made your heart thump ; they just
feathered for one instant on the line, and
then flung away like a flock of pigeons
over the heather.
" Forrard !" came the cheering tones,
" Forrard on ! Forrard on ! Forrard !"
" Oh, Dick !" was all Molly could manage,
at such a moment, as he ranged alongside
her, and settled himself down to gallop.
Molly's mare was giving her no peace, for
the vision of grass, grass, and yet more
grass under feet made her frantic for pace.
Hounds had just topped the opposite
hill, and were stringing in the manner of
stag-hounds, yet racing the while.
Horses were lathering and blowing freely.
Molly found those who had galloped past
her at the start were surely coming back to
her now, and she in turn left them behind
for good.
44 It's terrible soft, gentlemen, here-
abouts," said Benjamin, taking a pull at
his horse, nor was it long before a rash
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THE RUN OF THE SEASON 243
member of the field confirmed the hunts-
man's opinion ; his horse's fore-legs went
suddenly down into a bog, and the rider
lay sprawling on the ground beyond.
On the heather it was sound going once
more, but hounds had beaten horses over
the wet ground, and still further increased
their lead. " Porrard !" comes the gra-
tuitous advice of Benjamin, for there was
no fear of those precious hounds being over-
ridden just then.
As the knot of hard riders gained the
high ground they saw a vision of their stag
in the distance — alas ! in company with
two young male deer he had picked up on
his travels. Horrible thought — would they
separate and the pack divide ? Once more
the line was down to the water, where
hounds had checked for the first time, and
oh, joy! the two young deer were seen
breasting the opposite hill alone.
The old stag had found the pace too hot,
or the cooling stream too seductive, and
no doubt contemplated hiding there while
his young squires led the chase on in his
stead.
There was still time to stop hounds and
16—2
Digitized by
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244 WITHYFORD
draw the water for the right animal. A
note or two on the horn got them together,
and Benjamin stood and cheered them as
they made it good on both banks of the river,
" G-e-e-t over — over — over — H-i-i-c-k !
Michael ! hunt him, old man !" The old
hound went feathering on trying under the
bank of the stream.
Suddenly there was a rush and a roar of
hounds, and the great stag shook himself
free of the water, and bounded through the
pack, sending them flying in all directions.
Wild view-halloos greeted him as he
dashed up the rocky bed of the stream, and
then slanted his way up the steep sides of
the hill at a pace that left everything
standing still.
Hounds were soon on the line. Dick set
his horse going again at the best pace he
was capable of ; taking the hill on the slant,
Molly and he gained the open moor above,
where, neck and neck, they galloped on in
silence.
The dark clouds which had been threaten-
ing for some time now burst with character-
istic moorland fury, blotting out the horizon
completely.
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THE RUN OP THE SEASON 245
" Where are we ?" said Molly.
" Clean out of our country," was the
reply.
" But what a day we are having !"
With heads bent down against the blasts
of wind and rain they still galloped on,
ever and again catching sight of the pack
still racing ahead.
Ride as they would hounds gained
terribly up the hills, and that little string
of white dots seemed to move over the
grass like a will-o'-the-wisp.
Presently Molly and Dick came to a
narrow stream swollen by the torrents of
rain till the waters washed over the rocks
which formed the foot crossing. This
was a high-water mark with a vengeance,
and they cast along the bank for a ford.
The force of the waters washed hounds
as they swam down past the line of the
stag on the opposite bank, causing a check
while they recovered it. This was a wel-
come pause for horse and rider, but there
was not much time to spare, and Dick^was
the first to chance the stream, and he
plunged in where the bank was shallow on
the landing side.
Digitized by
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246 WTTHYFORD
As the cold water rushed over his saddle
the horse seemed to give a lurch as though
resigning himself to be carried down by
the stream ; this was not Dick's idea,
however, and a sharp dig with the spurs
as the animal's feet touched the bottom
sent him bounding towards the bank.
Here Dick waited for Molly, who was
anxiously cramming her mare in the exact
line he had taken. A chance hole would
make all the difference, she knew full well,
and it was with a feeling of relief she gained
the shallow bank.
They had now a steep zigzag path to
climb before they reached level going. In
spite of the start hounds had gained it was
absolutely necessary to nurse the horses up
the steep if they were to see the end of this
run. With a lock of wet mane twisted in
their grasp Molly and Dick crouched for-
ward in the saddle, easing their horses all
they knew.
On reaching the summit one of the
precious minutes was allowed for the horses
to catch their breath, and they were stood
up head to the wind for the purpose.
When they were once more set going,
Digitized by
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THE RUN OP THE SEASON 247
there was something of renewed strength
felt by the riders in their stride, and the
grass seemed to fly faster under their feet
till at last hounds were in sight again.
Still the chase went on, with varying
checks and fortunes, till an ominous roaring
bay was heard down in the deep coomb.
For one instant Molly and Dick checked
their pace as they viewed this truly noble
beast at bay.
There was no distress apparent in his
attitude ; his mouth was shut tight, and
he breathed defiance through his broad
nostrils.
There he stood, with head held high
above the surging waters that swept
hounds off their legs.
Two of the young Entry, alas ! had dis-
regarded the danger of those brow antlers
to their undoing; but the pack, not to be
denied, forced their gallant quarry under
the deep waters, and quickly drowned him.
As the brown body rose to the surface,
Lemon, the whip, threw his lasso with
unerring aim, and the loop fell over the
horns.
Then willing hands heaved at the line
Digitized by
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248 WITHYFORD
amid the renewed clamour of hounds, and
the long, winding blasts of Benjamin's
horn.
" No chance of any gruel in this benighted
spot," said Molly, " and my mare is cooked
to a turn."
They were stumbling their way home
now over the fast darkening moor, and the
sad, weird cry of the curlew told of the
wilderness around them.
44 Are you very wet ?" said Dick tenderly.
44 Well, the only really dry spot about
me is the inside of my flask," was the reply.
44 Never mind," said he, 44 it is the run
of the season, and you have got a slot, and
I have got a slot."
44 It's as well they didn't know," said
Molly ; 44 we might have only got one
between us."
THE END
BILLING AND SONS LTD., PRINTERS, GUILDFORD
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